ASIA — Fuad couldn’t speak for a moment as he looked over the sacks of flour, rice, beans and oil that covered the floor of the small office. He had spent weeks gathering a list of families in need of food, shopping for these winter staples, and organizing them for distribution. But as he looked over the sacks now, he could see the face of each person he would take them to. They were no longer simply sacks of supplies; each sack now held a story.

“This one will go to a widow I met in the next town,” Fuad told his coworkers, pointing to a sack near his feet. “Her father brought her here as a young girl from a city many hours away. He tied a rope around her waist and forced her to stand beside the road.” Fuad narrowed his eyes, “What kind of father treats his daughter like a sheep?”

He continued, “Finally, a man bought her — a man so old his beard was white. He took her home and they had two children. Then the old man died. His family refused to care for her, so they threw her and her two children out on the street with no money, no protection. She has no education; how can she provide for her kids? She has no option but to beg — or worse….” Fuad’s voice trailed off as he gazed at the floor.

After a few minutes, he looked up with resolve. “She will receive the first gift. We will tell her that God has seen her need and has provided for her family.”

One by one, each person listening lifted their gaze to scan the room. For each sack, a family desperate for food and for God to meet them in their time of need.

Italicized names were changed to protect identities.