by Kate Willoughby Hall, CEO of Richmondmom.com, and proud mama of this little boy scout (and friends) 
When our dear friend asked if our eight-year-old could spend the night, we were of course excited for him; since we’ve moved thirty minutes apart we don’t see each other as much as we did when we lived around the corner and worked nearby.
“Bring his cub scout shirt, okay?” she requested, “We’re gonna be picking up bags at the neighbors’ for the Food Bank, and they can all join in.”
I thought: cool, he’s going to get some volunteer experience and I don’t even have to MAKE HIM. He’s a great kid, don’t get me wrong, but like most third-graders he’d love to play Wii or hang on the computer or ride his scooter than do some sort of community project.
When we returned around noon the next day to pick him up, he still had his cub scout shirt on. “Mama! We had so much fun! And some lady even gave us EIGHT BAGS of food! Isn’t that cool that they are helping feed other people who don’t have as much food as they should?”
If I could’ve bottled this moment up in a jar and corked it I would have. The smile on his face and his best buddy’s grew as they recapped their morning: the bags, the loading, the excitement over how many boxes of macaroni and cheese were in each one.
“Mama, I don’t want anyone to be hungry. That is so sad.” I couldn’t have said it better myself.
