I was putting my youngest child to bed when the phone rang at 9:30 p.m. The cops reported that a kid called 911 but didn’t say anything. They found the call while I was at a little residence in my neighborhood.
A boy in pajama shorts and bare feet answered the door when I knocked. He was holding the phone like it was the most essential thing in the world. He seemed scared yet determined.
He said he was really hungry. He hadn’t had anything to eat all day. Only he and his sister were home. She was in the back room napping.
Heart sank.
When I asked him where his parents were, he shrugged and glanced down. It was empty, but it was clean. There was no food on the counter. The fridge only had a few ketchup packets and an old milk jug.
I bent down and asked him to take a picture with me so I could remember him, not to show off. He grinned a lot for the first time.
I phoned for help, not to arrest anyone, but to deliver food. I didn’t know what I was getting into, but I wasn’t going to leave them.
Things didn’t go as planned for me last night.
I’m talking to the boy as I wait for aid. Mateo was 8 years old. It was late, but his five-year-old sister Sofia was still asleep. Mateo added that their mom worked two jobs and sometimes didn’t get home till late or not at all. She hadn’t returned back yet tonight after working at the restaurant in the early morning.
Mateo seemed older than he was, as if he was used to this kind of thing. He told Sofia to eat before bed when their mom wasn’t home. They didn’t have any of that tonight. The peanut butter jar was empty.
There was an ambulance going by with its sirens on in the quiet area. Rosa, a paramedic, heard about the dispatch call because news travels quickly among first responders. There were two emergency granola bars, sandwiches, and drink boxes in her backpack.
Rosa came in with a brown paper bag full of food. As soon as she got there, Mateo felt better. “You’re probably starving,” she said as she gave him a sandwich wrapped in foil. He nodded shyly but didn’t get going. He carefully put it down and headed down the hall to Sofia’s room.
“I should wake her up,” he remarked.
“No need,” Rosa said hastily, putting another sandwich next to Mateo’s. “You can go ahead and let her eat.”
Mateo halted for the first time since he arrived. He carefully took the sandwich out of its wrapper and ate it. He looked like he had been holding his air all day, but now he could breathe. Watching him eat made me think about how easy it is to overlook how much food you need when you always have it.
Rosa and I were watching Mateo eat. We both realized we couldn’t leave these kids again. Not tonight. We need more information.
“I’ll stay here with them until social services gets here,” Rosa said in a quiet voice. “Find their mom.”
What she said made me nervous. I knew it was important to find the mother, but I pushed it off. Mateo might have kept the food because he thought it would disappear if he let it go. Maybe he was scared when I stated we should call for help.
“I’ll try to get to her first,” I said. “We’ll make plans for what to do next if she doesn’t answer.”
Mateo liked this idea. He said, “She works at Joe’s Diner,” while he chewed. It’s against the regulations for her to use her phone at work.
Hearing this fresh information made us feel better. If she worked more hours, maybe everything would be fine. I asked someone to check on Joe’s Diner for her while I listened to the radio.
The dispatcher reported that within twenty minutes, a woman who looked like her was at the diner and was quite unhappy. She remembered that she had left her phone at home hours earlier and couldn’t call her kids. She cried and wanted to talk to them after she found out they were safe.
Mateo changed when he heard his mom on the phone. He was so happy that Rosa was bringing dinner that he lit up like a Christmas tree and gushed about how great everything was. It showed how much he loved her and how afraid he was that anything bad had happened.
Social Services had been alerted before Mom got home, but they decided not to get involved. They did advise her about local services for families who don’t have a lot of money. Rosa gave her a flyer about free meals and help in the area before she went.
When I left the house that night, I was happy that things went more smoothly than I had thought they would. When I got home, all I could think of was Mateo clutching that sandwich. It taught me how tough life can be for folks who live paycheck to paycheck and how quickly a little compassion may change everything.
Who showed up at the station two weeks later? Rosa. This time, instead of her uniform, she wore jeans and a bright yellow pullover. She thanked me for allowing her come along that night by giving me a package of baked cookies.
She thought, “You know, I haven’t stopped thinking about those kids either.” So I did something.
Rosa started Midnight Meals, a program for firefighters, nurses, and paramedics to help each other. Local schools picked families who needed help, and every Friday night, volunteers brought care packages with snacks that don’t go bad, toiletries, and handwritten letters of support.
The most surprising thing to me was how many people wanted to help after they found out about it. Teachers gave students books. Store proprietors gave away food in cans. Teenagers offered to help sort things. Midnight Meals turned out to be more than we had anticipated for in just a few months.
Rosa asked me to go with her on a delivery route one cold December night. As we got closer to Mateo and Sofia’s house, I knew I would feel a lot of different things. Will they remember who I am? Would they be upset if they were singled out?
Mateo said hello to us and knew who Rosa was, which made me feel better. He wasn’t hungry or barefoot this time. Next to him, their mother smiled. She correctly said who she was and thanked us several times for assisting that night and for coming back.
The house’s interior looked different. A local religious group put up decorations on the walls. In the corner was a small fake tree with ornaments from neighbors that didn’t go together. The finest aspect of Midnight Meals was that they offered the kitchen table bowls of fruit, bread, and other essential meals.
Mateo laughed and showed Rosa his newest school project. This made me realize something important: even small acts of kindness may make a great difference. What started as a welfare check grew into a loving and helpful movement.
Rosa gave Mateo a new school backpack before she left. He cried as he touched her. He said, “Thanks.” “For everything.”
Rosa and I talked about how nights like these reminded us of why we selected this career on the way home. It can be hard at times. Even sad. But Mateo’s smile keeps us going.
The lesson is that life gives us tests every day. There are big ones and little ones, but all of them are important. What you do counts more than you think, whether you’re helping, eating, or listening. You never know how a small thing will change someone’s life.