His plan was to give them seeds and teach them how to grow their own food.
“Why these people?” I asked, glancing at the map.
“Because I know them,” he replied. “Some have helped others without expecting anything in return. Some have struggled quietly for years. And some will need help before they ever admit it.”
He picked up an envelope and turned it over in his hands.
“If someone helps you when you have nothing, you remember. If you can help someone else when they have nothing, you do that too.”
Suddenly, I remembered his words from years earlier.
Food is never wasted when someone is hungry.
He had never been talking only about our family.
He had been thinking about everyone whose name appeared on that map.
I walked outside and looked around the property again.
The garden seemed different now.
Rain barrels stood beneath the roof gutters. A simple irrigation line carried water between the beds. The fruit trees had been planted with care, leaving enough room for them to grow. Behind the shed was a compost area made from salvaged boards.
