I can remember crying in bed when I was five years old because our family had ice cream after dinner that night and I knew there were other people in the world that didn't even have any dinner. My mom was touched and smiled and tried to unburden my heavy little heart but to no avail. As I grew older my parents and siblings would tease me that I would probably become a missionary to Africa someday. They laughed I think in part because they really believed what they were saying could become truth.
My ultimate goal is to start a soup kitchen that will eventually grow into a shelter / community for those in need. On Monday, I put a collection box in our work staff room for people to donate food or hygiene items. So far, I've prepared two "food kits" to carry in my car, had a father contact me (about a job), given hot, homemade soup to a middle-aged man on the street and gave away a food kit to a woman at a gas station whom I'm pretty sure tried to give it away right after (as she was not truly hungry for food but for money).
I plan to chronicle the events of this, my journey. This is me but it is not for me. If I get enough donations or have a hard time keeping up with them, I will begin to give the food kits to others to carry with them. Thank you for your support (all kinds). It's greatly appreciated by many.
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