When the metal doors of Atlanta's subway slide open, I step out on the platform and search for the familiar red shirts of the nine other youth on my mission team. Our leader, Jeff, shows us a map of where we will be walking to arrive at the homeless shelter, our first destination of the morning. As he finishes up his instructions, he adds, "Did everyone pack a lunch?"
Yes, of course I did.
After waking up on the Salvation Army floor and grabbing some cereal, I had prepared my peanut butter sandwich and apple. Then, I stuck it into a brown paper bag and carefully situated it in my bookbag where it was least likely to get smashed before we stopped for lunch.
"Well," Jeff continues, "We won't be eating today. Each of you will find someone who needs a lunch and give yours away."
Silence. I take a deep breath. The air fills my lungs as I convince myself that it won't be too bad; I never get hungry anyway. I look around at my uneasy team members, and we head out into the unrelenting sun.