My Hands Hurt but My Heart Exults

 

I had the intention of giving a bit of what we have to people in need. I thought about doing it through a church since they have the knowledge and vocation for charity.

 

But then I saw on the local TV a guy who once was a maluene (street child) and grew up with this idea of helping other kids like him. He now feeds and shelters 100 homeless kids under the community house The Bean Sauce My Mother Cooked.

 

Strange as the name may sound, on a second glimpse you’ll see it’s all about comfort. The hearty guy put it all in a single sentence. He wants that place to be like the beans mothers once prepared for them. Hopefully, the majority could taste that sauce. Before divorce. Before AIDS. Before violence. Before negligence.

 

I’ve spent the last days before Christmas working to give presents to a bit more than one hundred kids. There’s something useful and something playful for each one. There’s food too.

 

We waited TD’s arrival to visit the “Beans House” (as I call it now) and pour a bit of sauce into one hundred young lives.

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