The Huffington story about teenagers in San Diego making breakfast burritos for the homeless is a good read. It is a nifty way to invert escalating consumerism into compassion. Even thirteen year old boys get a buzz from handing warm food to a grateful street dweller. It started modestly enough, with the intention of wrapping a few dozen tortillas. But it has grown like bamboo. If you are patient you can actually see it get taller.

Thirty three thousand burritos later, the boys' empathy has expanded. Amazingly, feeding others can be more satisfying than feeding yourself.

A year ago I invited mothers of young children to drop off their babies and toddlers for a morning. A group of volunteers helped care for them, while they climbed on a jungle gym and blew bubbles. We have continued each month with a dozen or so watchers matched up with a few dozen watchees.  Tonight is our first Couple's Evening Out, which is a chance for parents to leave their broods for homemade pizza and a movie. There are twenty five families already giddy at the prospect. Several women have told me it impacted their marriage simply to look forward to Friday. Those of us left holding the baby will have fun too I daresay. Babies come with their own aura of sweetness, which if you haven't held one in awhile can cure all kinds of cynicism and loneliness.

There will be thirteen year olds too, in the fleet of care givers. I expect they will throw some basketballs, and push a few plastic bikes. We will offer them ice cream but I am guessing the sweetness of a curly lashed three year old will leave a longer after taste.

Amazingly a Friday night spent feeding someone else's kid can be more satisfying than feeding yourself.