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Cranberries This work is considered exceptional by our editorial staff.

By mads942, Houston, TX

I watched sadly as the line of scraggly homeless people stumbled out the glass door of my church fellowship hall. Families trudged across the patterned carpet, children, adults, and grandparents filed through the door, back to the poverty from which they came. However, there was a different quality to them that I hadn’t seen before they stepped into the building; I could tell that they were happier, more hopeful. They mingled and talked to the volunteers as they made their way out, faces brighter, smiling, and laughing. I remembered the thoughts I had before they walked through that door. How could I ever have been so insensitive? I had no idea the impact that their presence had on me until they were leaving. I turned away, suddenly melancholy, my mind wandering back to their arrival.

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