by Gary Sayer

I am not sure just what compelled me to stop and ask what I could do to help. Was it that man’s simple appeal for help scrawled on a piece of card-board saying, "Work For Food?" Or was it his two young sons roaming close by? I noticed that the smallest boy was about two years old and dressed in overalls that were several sizes to large. He looked at me with eyes that told a story at a glance. Maybe I was drawn by this scrawny lad, and maybe he reminded of my own son. None the less I started a campaign of my own to help as much as I could.

When I got home I told my wife, Tammi, about the unfortunate people I had discovered and she suggested we raid our pantry right away. The next day we shared the story of this family with our friends. Soon the food stuff started pouring in. Before we knew it we had gathered about ten full sacks of canned goods and non-perishables.

We quickly delivered the bounty to the address I had written down a day earlier. We found a rickety trailer house and a family who was truly poor and needy, but still together. Without a doubt this family had fallen on hard times. The father was working, eking out a partial living on a minimum wage job. As we left I could not stop the lump that swelled in my throat and I could not forget the strange effect that one little boy was having on my life. It was a brief visit, but I had a feeling not our last.

A few days later I told the same story to the people at work. Again, I was truly amazed at the good response that followed. One man donated over twenty pounds of fresh meat. So, I delivered another bounty of food. This time I asked the young boy what his name was. "His name is Christopher," said his mother. I glanced at her then looked back down at Christopher. Even though his face was not as clean as it might have been, there was a glow emanating from it. I rubbed his ruffled head of hair and said, "My name is Gary, and I am very pleased to know you Christopher, very pleased indeed."

When we left, I could still see Christopher’s face, his runny nose, scrawny little arms, and again those eyes of his that seemed to say so much. To this very day I wonder how he is, especially when I tuck my own sons in for the night. His little life has taught me to quit complaining and do what I can to help others.

--Gary Sayre, July, 28, 1990