A Child's Compassion
In the sixties my family moved to the country in Milam County, Texas. In front of our house, cars traveled on highway seventy-nine and trains traveling on the other side of the highway broke the silence of each day. One morning while doing the dishes, my daughter tugged at my skirt. With her wide eyes looking up at me, she said, "Mom, there's a man outside and he's hungry." I looked out the living room window and saw two of my boys sitting on the grass, outside our fence with a strange man. He looked like a hobo that had jumped off a boxcar from the train. As quick as I could, I prepared four peanut butter and jelly sandwiches one for each of them. After wrapping the sandwiches in wax paper, I gave them to my daughter. She smiled then ran outside. I watched as the four ate their meager meal. When they finished, the children waved at...