Feeding Hungry Kids

Rolling tortillas

The children eating

Sorting beans

Today we worked at the feeding center in Nuevo Oriental. Monday through Friday, every single week, 230 hungry kids are fed lunch. Three ladies start every morning at 8:30 preparing this hot meal. They cook over a woodburning stove and it gets hot in that kitchen. Two hundred and thirty kids are fed five days a week on a $250.00 a week budget. Throughout the week, the meals are pretty balanced. For most of these children, the meals they receive at the feeding center are the only meals they receive all week. It is amazing what is done in this feeding center each week.

In this community school is held in the afternoon. The reason is so that the children can go to school with their stomachs full. When school was held in the morning, too many children were coming to school hungry or not coming at all.

I cannot imagine how long these ladies have to work each day when no one comes in to help. There were six of us and we left a little after one and most of the dishes were done and we had helped serve as well.

We arrived around 9:30 and went right to work. The next day's beans have to be sorted. It is one of those things that doesn't make sense to the American mind. We did not ask questions; we just down and started sorting beans. Any bean that is flat or deformed in any way or is too light has to be removed. While some of us were sorting beans, one rolled the tortillas and one pressed them in the tortilla maker. I was on the bean sorting crew. We laughed and fellowshipped and had a great time sorting beans.

When the children began to arrive at 11:30, some were in the kitchen filling the plates, one person served the meals, one the drinks, and one the tortillas. I was the tortilla server. I quickly learned I could not serve the tortilla until their plate had been served.

Some of the children ate ravenously and some ate more slowly. Several were dirty. One little girl I clearly remember was dressed for school. Her white uniform blouse was at least two sizes too big and hung off her shoulders. Her skirt was dirty. Her shoes were worn out and too small for her. Her feet were crammed ino them. And her socks had no elastic left and drooped around her ankles.

As I served tortillas, I spoke in spanish to most of the children. I received many smiles.

I don't have a picture and I need one to prove it, but I actually saw Marc washing dishes.

We left happy, feeling like we had really contributed something today, and knowing it was another great day in Honduras.

Terri