He sat in the back of the classroom. Kept to himself. Brought his lunch in a brown paper bag.
Every day he pulled half a sandwich from his bag, and a small piece of bruised fruit…. if he was lucky.
Every day he folded that same brown paper bag up and put it in his backpack to take home.
It wasn’t unusual to see him eyeing the leftovers so many kids in his class were carelessly tossing away.
Kids made fun of him because he was the tallest in our class. And because he was quiet. And because his clothes were often dirty and unkempt. But do you know what he really was?
Hungry.
It took me almost a quarter of a century to understand that.
His name was James. James wasn’t a statistic. He had a story. What he didn’t have was hope.
It is easy to tell you there are 16 million kids in this country just like James. The greater challenge: getting the average person to know, to understand, to care. It is hard to care about numbers, but it is equally hard to ignore emotion, to ignore stories… to ignore the idea of HOPE.
And when HOPE and STORIES are delivered through music, the result can be magic. At least that’s what these Country Music stars at this year’s Academy of Country Music Awards told me on the Red Carpet before hearing the World Premiere of ‘Here’s Hope’ – the song Con Agra Food and Child Hunger Ends Here HOPE can motivate us to make a positive change.
She has reached out to hug me, wrapping her tiny arms around me, pulling my head, not to hers, but to her chest, so that she might pet my hair….a comforting gesture I would like to think she has learned from me.
During the Intermission, my date and I talked about High School. She wouldn’t stop asking questions about my High School experience, and I asked her questions about her schooling. She’s very smart with much to offer to the conversation. I was thoroughly engaged. It turns out she’s a very good singer, but is a bit shy in public. Very cute.
It is close to impossible to breathe because you remember. And of all things you know in the world at that moment – you don’t want to remember.
How do I describe the most selfless person I know? How do I explain the multitude of ways she made me better, or how she never missed an opportunity to encourage me, tell me she loved me or supported what I was doing? How do I begin to recount the dozens of organizations she helped, the people she inspired, the lives she touched? This is a woman who donated her time and talents to the Pujols Foundation multiple times a year, for free, because she felt called to do so. She photographed Proms and special events, even traveling with them to the Dominican Republic.
Quick story. Buddy of mine calls today to say he has two extra tickets for next Friday’s Home Opener. Two hours prior to this call, I receive my 7 year old daughter’s Softball schedule and she has a game that same night. I’m not passing judgment on the majority of those that would rather go to the Home Opener, but that day has passed for this baseball (and now softball) fan. I went to 9 straight Home Openers with my Dad when I was a young fan. The best part of going to the game was NOT the game, nor the parade of Budweiser Clydesdales high stepping into Busch, it was going to the game with my Dad. And, see, the best part of my life now is going to games with my kids and even better, watching my two all-stars play. I love it. I live for it. (Dang, this post just threw a curve ball at you, eh?)
Also? If you attended Blissdom, you may have received one of these books, Amy Giggles, written by 
