Medicine for the soul

This blogger's entry is too good to rewrite (though I've shortened it). Take it away, Albert:

Enrique’s Journey recounts the odyssey of a young boy who travels from Honduras, clinging to the tops and sides of freight trains, to reconnect with his mother in the United States.

The tops of the boxcars are controlled by gangsters. Bandits rob and sometimes kill the children.

Yet it’s common for the people who live along the tracks to throw small bundles to the migrants as they pass:

'Families throw sweaters, tortillas, bread, and plastic bottles filled with lemonade. A baker, his hands coated with flour, throws his extra loaves. A seamstress throws bags filled with sandwiches. A teenager throws bananas. A carpenter throws bean burritos. A store owner throws animal crackers, day-old pastries, and half-liter bottles of water. People who have watched migrants fall off the train from exhaustion bring plastic jugs filled with Coca-Cola or coffee.

'… A stooped woman, María Luisa Mora Martín, more than 100 years old, who was reduced to eating the bark of her plantain tree during the Mexican Revolution, forces her knotted hands to fill bags with tortillas, beans, and salsa so her daughter, Soledad Vásquez, 70, can run down a rocky slope and heave them onto a train.'"

More inspiration in humanity at White Courtesy Telephone aka the American Charity Blogger.