Feeding the Hungry, P. C. Hiebert, 1929

d the smallest one as his eyes sparkled. In deep emotion mother folded her hands as she looked up and breathed the words, “Dear Father in Heaven, we thank nee,” “Our thanks, dear friends, a thousand thanks! May God in grace reward your deed through all your life.” Payee taun, This story was repeated in many a letter that came to me and to others. Oh, so often I wished that the kind donors in far away America could have been present when the packages arrived, that they might see the beaming faces, and the sparkling eyes of the children, and the tears of gratitude in the eyes of the parents. They would have been richer by one of the purest and most beautiful joys of their whole life. Wuat ONE Foop PackaGE D1p The following incident that came under my personal observation will also help to visualize what repeatedly happened, where these “pacilkas” were the direct means of saving precious lives. A former teacher W—, was 286 FEEDING THE HUNGRY engaged by our representatives to serve on the general Volost Committee at H—. As secretary of this com- mittee W— had rendered very efficient service for some time. He gave practically all his time to the work, for which we allowed him two meals a day. This may seem unfair but was sufficient to keep him, and was justified by the fact that we did not have enough food to make the round providing one meal a day for the rest. If W— had eaten these two meals, he would have fared well enough, but he shared them with four members of his family who were not yet admitted to our kitchen accord- ing to the rules that necessity required us to make. Con- sequently W— was underfed, which he dramatically told me one morning when he came into my office with the words, “Bro. Hiebert, look here,” as he held up his right hand, which was considerably swollen, a sign that he was dangerously undernourished and that death from starva- tion would result soon unless he received more food. Those deep blue eyes looked straight into my face and spoke more eloquently than words can. And this was the message they gave me. “The man whose pen delegates food to thousands is starving to death in our very kitchen.” He said nothing further and went about his duties, but I said to myself, “This will never do,” and set to planning how I could provide an additional ration for this valuable man, when all the food that our monthly budget would purchase had already been assigned. It was not so easy to give to one without taking from another. A day or two after W— again came into my office, still haggard and emaciated, but there seemed to be a new light in his eyes. J knew something had happened, and there was a new message for me, when he broke forth with the glad news, “Bro. Hiebert, there is a ‘pacilka’ for me at Alexandrowsk.” A new lease on life by the arrival of a food-draft package. It came from his brother in FOOD AND CLOTHING REMITTANCES 207 America. Bro. W— ate of this w