Many, many years ago, I flew half a world from my safe home, and learned what poverty looks like, for real. I prayed before going "Lord, let my heart be broken by the things that break the heart of God."
Reading Ann's words today, I remember the heat, the smells, the children clinging by a thread to hope, daily renewed by the work Compassion does. I remember, tears running down my cheeks, the joyous smiles of children who know that they are loved, that their hope is not without reason.
And in this season when so many desire so much, I think of those who are happy each day for food for that day, a chance to learn, the hope of a better tomorrow.
Who will stand in the gap for them? Who will make a difference, even just for one?