Down jagged hills and through narrow dripping alleys, we walk. Little rivers in the mud road soak our shoes and float trash out into the Caribbean. Soft rain rattles on the corrugated metal roofs of small wooden shanties and crumbing concrete hovels. Inside a few of these homes are those too crippled or weak to go out in search of food.
At the end of leading a packing session, I like to tell a story about one kid who has eaten FMSC food to point out the impact this food can have on one life. I was all set to do this at a MobilePack event at Calvary Lutheran Church in Golden Valley when a little girl scout stood up and taught us that feeding one child touches hundreds of lives.