I was putting my youngest child to bed at 9:30 p.m. when the phone rang. The cops reported that a kid called 911 but didn’t say anything. I was in a modest house in my neighborhood when they tracked the call.
A boy in pajama shorts and no shoes opened the door when I knocked. He was holding a phone like it was the most essential thing in the world. He looked nervous but determined.
He said he was terribly hungry. He hadn’t eaten anything that day. There were only him and his sister at home. She was in the back room napping.
Heart fell.
When I asked him where his parents were, he shrugged and glanced down. It was empty, but it was spotless. There was no food on the counter. The fridge barely had a couple packets of ketchup and an old milk jug.
I bent down and asked him for a picture with me so I could remember him, not to show off. He smiled widely for the first time.
I phoned for aid, but not to arrest anyone. I just wanted food. I didn’t know what I was getting into, but I wouldn’t leave them.
My night didn’t go as I had hoped.
I talk to the boy as I wait for aid. Mateo was 8 years old. Even though it was late, his five-year-old sister Sofia was asleep. Mateo added that their mom had two jobs and sometimes didn’t come home till late or not at all. She hadn’t come back yet tonight after working at the restaurant early this morning.
Mateo seemed older than his years, as if he was used to this kind of thing. He told Sofia to eat before bed when their mom wasn’t there. They didn’t have any of that tonight. There was nothing left in the jar of peanut butter.
An ambulance with its sirens on went by in the quiet area. Rosa, a paramedic, knew about the dispatch call because first responders talk to one other quickly. In her bag were sandwiches, drink packs, and two granola bars for emergencies.
Rosa came in with a brown bag full of food. When she got there, Mateo felt better right away. “You must be starving,” she said, giving him a sandwich wrapped in foil. He nodded shyly but didn’t say anything. He carefully put it down and headed down the hallway to Sofia’s room.
He responded, “I need to wake her up.”
Rosa instantly said, “No need,” and put another sandwich next to Mateo’s. “She can eat in the morning.” Go ahead.
Mateo halted for the first time since he arrived. He carefully took the sandwich out of the wrapper and ate it. He looked like he had been holding his breath all day and was finally able to let it out. Watching him eat reminded me how easy it is to forget how much you need food when you always have it.
Rosa and I watched Mateo eat. We both realized we couldn’t leave these youngsters alone again. Not this evening. We need more information.
“Rosa said in a hushed voice, “I’ll stay here with them until social services gets here.” “Find their mom.”
What she said scared me. I knew I had to find the mother, but I pushed it off. Mateo may have kept the food because he thought it would disappear if he let it go. Maybe it was because he was scared when I said we should ask for help.
“I’ll try to get in touch with her first,” I said. “If she doesn’t answer, we’ll make plans for what to do next.”
Mateo liked this idea. He said, “She works at Joe’s Diner,” in between bites. At work, she can’t use her phone because it’s against the regulations.
After hearing this fresh knowledge, we felt better. If she worked more hours, maybe things would be perfect. I asked someone to check on Joe’s Diner for her while I listened to my radio.
The dispatcher claimed that a woman who looked like her was at the diner and was quite unhappy after twenty minutes. She remembered that she had left her phone at home hours previously and couldn’t call her kids. After she found out they were okay, she cried and requested to talk to them.
Mateo changed when he heard his mom on the phone. He was so happy that Rosa was bringing dinner and everything was great that he lit up like a Christmas tree. It showed how much he cared about her and how afraid he was that something bad had happened.
Social Services had been alerted before Mom got home, but they didn’t want to get involved. They did tell her about local services that help families with low incomes. 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 glad that things went better than I had thought they would. When I got home, I couldn’t stop thinking about Mateo clutching that sandwich. It taught me how hard life can be for folks who don’t have enough money and how quickly being nice can change everything.
Who came to the station two weeks later? Rosa. This time, she wore jeans and a bright yellow sweater instead of her uniform. She thanked me for allowing her come along that night and brought me a package of baked cookies.
She thought, “I haven’t stopped thinking about those kids, either.” I did something.
Rosa started Midnight Meals, a volunteer program for paramedics, nurses, and firemen. Local schools picked families who needed help, and every Friday night, volunteers brought care packages with snacks that won’t go bad, toiletries, and handwritten letters of support.
The biggest surprise for me was how many people wanted to help when they heard about it. Teachers gave out books. Store proprietors gave away food in cans. Teenagers offered to help organize things. Midnight Meals became more than we had dreamed for in just a few months.
Rosa asked me to join along on a delivery route one cold December evening. As we got closer to Mateo and Sofia’s house, I thought I would experience a lot of different things. Will they think of me? Would they be mad if they were picked out?
Mateo said hello to us in a friendly way and knew who Rosa was, which made me feel better. He wasn’t hungry or barefoot this time. Next to him, their mother beamed with joy. She told us her name and thanked us several times for assisting that night and coming back.
The inside of the house looked different. A church group from the region put up decorations on the walls. In the corner stood a small fake tree with ornaments from neighbors that didn’t match. The finest aspect of Midnight Meals was that they offered the kitchen table bowls of fruit, bread, and other simple delicacies.
I learned something important as Mateo laughed and showed Rosa his latest school project: even the smallest gestures of kindness can make a great difference. What started as a welfare check turned into a movement of caring and working together.
Rosa gave Mateo a new backpack for school before she left. He cried as he touched her. He said, “Thanks.” “Thanks for everything.”
Rosa and I talked about how nights like these made us remember why we selected this career on the way home. It can be hard sometimes. Even sad. But watching Mateo grin keeps us going.
The lesson is that life puts us to the test every day. Some are quite big, some are very small, but all are important. What you do, whether it’s helping, eating, or listening, is more important than you think. You never know how a small thing will change someone’s life.
