Tonight, these boys sit around my table. They laugh, chew with their mouths open despite reminders, forget to use their napkins. They are louder than they ought to be and chanting and banging on the table is also not uncommon. I roll my eyes at their antics. I refrain from fussing, inwardly step back, adjust the lens. The eight year old smiles tonight and laughs at the one year old who is putting on a show for everyone. I can almost see the healing as .

What touched me most was that Wednesday, the day our mission trip with the middle school youth from my church led us to the. The day before, I got to run the cardboard crusher at the Food Bank. Tossing out the 50 lb. bags of potatoes into the enormous dumpster, not so cool.