She looked up with huge, brown eyes - staring as I handed her mother the four brown lunch bags. I was working at a soup kitchen in a nearby city. Although many people came and went, I remember that little girl.

She couldn't have been more than six-years-old, but her eyes seemed to have seen more than any child should. As she looked at the lunch bag, I hoped that it would not be her only meal of the day. She, her mother, and two siblings sat down at a table. When she opened her bag, she was so excited. Her eyes lit up when she saw the sandwich, orange and cookie inside. When she shyly went for a cup of milk, her eyes stayed bright.

As she went to leave, I was sorry. Sorry I couldn't - offer her another orange. Sorry I couldn't - give her another cookie. Sorry I couldn't - keep her eyes bright.