There are moments in life that stop us—not because they are loud, but because they are quiet and heavy. One day, I saw a homeless family sitting in front of a grocery store. There was a mother, one child, and an infant. They were sitting outside, exposed to the weather, surrounded by people going in and out with full carts and busy minds.
My heart could not ignore them.
I went into the grocery store and bought simple food—chicken fingers, corn dogs, and drinks. I did not know what else to do. I only hoped that, for a moment, they would feel a little better. It is so hard for children to be outside like that. Their bodies are small. Their hearts are tender. They should not have to carry the weight of adult problems.
As I walked back, many thoughts passed through my mind.
Are they safe?
Are the children being cared for?
Are they being used or forced into this situation?
I may never know the full story. But what I do know is this: children should not suffer because of the brokenness of adults or the systems of this world.
What hurt me most was not just their situation—it was the innocence of the children. Children do not choose homelessness. They do not choose instability. They do not choose fear. And yet, they often pay the highest price.
I hope that child will remember something simple—that not all people in the world are bad. That even in hard moments, someone saw them. Someone cared. Someone acted.
Kindness does not always fix everything. But it does something powerful—it reminds people of their humanity. It reminds children that they are not invisible. And it reminds us that we are responsible for how we respond to suffering.
This world can be cruel. But it does not have to be heartless.
God does not ask us to solve every problem. Sometimes He asks us to notice. Sometimes He asks us to act in small ways. Sometimes He asks us to protect the hearts of children by showing them compassion when the world has failed them.
If we cannot change the whole system, we can still change a moment.
If we cannot rescue everyone, we can still show mercy.
And sometimes, that small act becomes a seed of hope planted in a child’s memory—a reminder that goodness still exists.
I pray that we never become so busy or so hardened that we stop seeing suffering, especially when it is right in front of us.
Because how we treat the most vulnerable reveals who we truly are.
Leave a Reply