Officer J.J. was rushing us all into the automobiles as well as a couple of other officers. Sweat was trickling down the side of my face from the radiating sun while my heart would not stop pounding against my chest. Being the worry wart I was, a million impossible things that could never actually happen ran through my head. However, that was to be expected, since it was my first time volunteering.

I was pretty glad though that I had joined the summer program, Wake Up, which was run by the police of Phoenix. As soon as the other kids and I boarded the van, the journey to St. Mary’s Food Bank in Phoenix began. The trip there was a lot shorter than I had expected at the time, but when we arrived, the fourteen years old me could not keep her eyes off of the building. When the door was opened, I rushed right out of the car with curiosity gleaming in my eyes. The police officers lead us inside the building. The inside was enormous! There were boxes everywhere you looked; the place was practically made up of them. My eyes widened up as I looked around and I thought, “amazing...” The group of kids and I were then led to a lounging kind of area where we were given history about the organization. Afterwards, we were shown to our stations and I was assigned to unfold the boxes and such with my best friend. About half an hour had passed and beads of sweat once again began forming across my forehead; I honestly did not think a job as easy as this would tire me so fast. In no time, the boxes became one of those tasks where I did not really need to think about anymore. I began spacing out into my own little world and was sucked deep into my thoughts. I realized that what I was doing, other people do it as well, but they spend more time in this heat to pack so much food for the homeless. I felt pretty weak since I was already complaining about being tired. My mind kept wandering around until a certain thought hit me right in the face. The first time I came in direct contact with someone less fortunate.

I was at the bus stop with my dad when I heard shuffling coming from the trash bin. I was curious to know what or who was causing these noises, so I whipped my head back and there in my sight I saw an old man with shiny skin; he was covered with dirt and grime from head to toe. The poor man was rummaging through the trash desperately looking for any kind of drink to quench his thirst. I removed the sweat from my face and looked up at the sky. Sometimes I wished I did not live in a desert. I stared at the man with a slight frown on my face. That day was supposed to be one the hottest days here in Phoenix and this elderly man had nothing to calm down the raging dryness in his throat. I looked up to my dad and tugged the hem of his shirt to avert his attention towards me.

“Papa, I think that man is thirsty,” I spoke to him quietly in Spanish.

I did not want to seem rude to the man since I was talking about him and his current situation. He looks back down at my small structure and then turns to glance at the man. The same expression I had earlier was painted upon his face when he saw. My dad turned back to face me and swiftly reached into his pocket to retrieve his wallet and pulled out a couple of bills. He approached the man while I stood behind him, witnessing the act of kindness.

“Excuse me, sir,” the words of my father’s booming voice swam into my ears.

The man’s attention was removed from the trash can as he turned to face my dad’s figure. He looked at my father with curiosity peeking through his eyes and a raspy “huh…” escaped through his chapped dry lips.
“Here,” he handed over the few dollar bills to the man as he smiled gently.

At that moment, the man’s expression changed drastically. His once bleak appearance was replaced with glee. Ecstasy was radiating from his form as his eyes landed on the money. He happily took it and thanked my dad about a thousand times before looking over at me and smiling a big ‘ole toothy grin. The old man bid my father and me a farewell and merrily walked over to the convenience store across the street.

“Oi, Larissa! Hey, c’mon, it’s time for us to leave!” I snapped out of my thoughts as my best friend called out to me. I had probably been out for a while since it was already time for us to leave. There was an exchange of words between the two of us as we lined up to say our “thank you” and “goodbye.” I followed the rest of the kids outside and I looked back at St. Mary’s Food Bank.

“You did real well, Lari,” I whispered to myself and softly smiled a satisfied grin. People just like the man I had met, would be able to calm their hunger and I would proudly know that I had helped pack these boxed foods.