
"Please pass the bean soup." I about dropped my spoon. We were dining at the Albrecht’s house one Saturday. "What? Stanton, I thought you did not like beans." Without a second thought Stanton answered, "Yes, but I would like to try Mr. David’s soup today." Not wanting to waste any delicious food I responded with, "Oh, ok, well, here, have a bite of mine and see if you like it before we pour you your own bowl." I leaned over the table with a tiny bit of soup on my spoon and my other hand hovering under it to keep any spills from happening.
"Hmm, yes, I think I like that. May I have my own bowl please?" I stared at Stanton in disbelief. I froze still leaning over the table, my jaw dropped, the spoon in mid-air. "Uh, ok. Wow, Stanton, what changed your mind?" Chris looked at Stanton and nodded his head with a wink and a smile and said, "Stanton learned the value of a bean yesterday."
Two days earlier, Chris had come up with a solution for the massive containers of beans we had in storage. Even though the children eat beans every day at VFN, we had not been able to make a dent in the pile of beans that was so generously donated. Some of the beans had already begun to be infested with rats. Chris had a plan to teach the teenagers about the importance of giving to others. With the bed of the truck filled with beans and some eager young teenagers (including our eight year old son, Stanton) they headed out.

You can imagine what a bucket full of beans meant to each household. "Mom, when we would drop some of the beans while we were shoveling them into those buckets, the people would run behind the truck, with cups or bowls and stuff, to pick the beans out of the dirt." Stanton could not understand why they would crawl on their hands and knees in the middle of the dirt road for barely a handful of beans! "Daddy, these people must really like beans." Stanton said. "No, son, they are starving and each and every bean makes the difference of how hungry they are when they go to bed". Somehow when he got up from that table he looked a little bit taller to me.
Later that night when I tucked him into bed I asked him, "Do you think all of those people are happy right now?" "Oh, yeah, Mom, you should have seen how happy they were when we were giving them those beans. Some of them chased the truck and wanted more. I don’t think they will be hungry tonight." I kissed him good night and while praying together for his dreams, we lifted up the poor of Nicaragua. Grateful for the experience my son had to open his eyes and his heart to life less privileged, I gently closed the door to his room and walked to mine. Suddenly, the unbearable heat was bearable, the mosquito buzzing by my ear just got a passing swat, and the hopeless state of the people I face everyday seemed hopeful. It takes a child sometimes to show us. Making a difference just takes each and every one of us helping our neighbor like Christ said to do. Maybe it is a bucket of beans, maybe it is a much needed hug from a dear friend, or it could even be something as simple as a kind word to a complete stranger.
Let’s not forget Erica… She continues to do wonderful in school and is learning Spanish rapidly. She is also full of great faith. She challenges me with her simplistic trust in God. I hear her angelic little voice saying her catch all solution to any problem, "Well, let’s just pray right now, Momma."

We continue to be so thankful for each of you who lift up our family in prayer. We have been covered with safety, filled with contentment, satisfied with full stomachs while sleeping in comfortable beds--sheltered from the harsh weather here. Every day we see the hand of God move through the work we have an honor to be a part of.
God Bless You with His Peace!
Chris and Corrie Harris
Directors / La Villa Familiar Nicaragua