Times and Seasons by Beverly LaHaye Page B

as many sacrifices as we can to help those people. But I came here today to ask you to help, too.
    “Think about it. Four dollars or less will feed one child for a month. What do you spend four dollars on?” she asked. “When I lived here, I spent four dollars a day on the sodas I drank. It was nothing to run through McDonald’s and pick up a burger and fries for under four dollars. But if you think about it the next time you go through that fast food window and realize that there’s a child in another part of the world, with a distended belly and skinny little arms and a look of hopelessness in his eyes, then maybe you’ll choose to spend that money on him, instead.”
    Tory smeared a tear across her face. Sylvia was right, she thought. Here Tory sat in her perfect little world, worrying constantly about her imperfect little child. But Hannah was happy and she was healthy and she was a joy, even if others couldn’t see it. What if they’d had a hurricane sweep through the land and destroy their homes and businesses? What if they didn’t have enough food to eat and had to rely on the kindness of people like Sylvia to feed them? What if that was all her children could hope for?
    When Sylvia asked for pledges from the people there to help support the food program in León, Tory wanted to fill out a card. But this wasn’t her church, she thought.
    “We have to get our church involved,” she whispered to Brenda.
    Brenda’s eyes glistened, too. “I was just thinking the same thing.”
    They were quiet as they got back into the car and drove home. “That was really good, Sylvia,” Tory said. “Really, really good.”
    “Thank you,” Sylvia said. “I get a little nervous when I get up in front of all those people like that. But then I remember it’s not for me.”
    “What can we do, Sylvia?” Brenda asked. “How can we help?”
    Sylvia smiled. “Well, to tell you the truth, I had planned to hit you up for something.”
    Tory grinned. “What?”
    “Well, when I made it known I was coming home for a few days, I started getting a lot of invitations to speak to other churches about the work I was doing. I had to turn some of them down. But I was thinking that maybe you and Brenda and Cathy could go around and do it for me. I could leave these slides for you and some of my notes. If you could just go and make a presentation, tell them about the work we’re doing, maybe you could get them to raise some money, too. We need all we can get. If we don’t get it, we’ll have to turn children like Miguel away. We’ll have to tell their mothers and fathers that we can’t help them. Then they won’t want to hear the gospel, and they’ll never get what they need most.”
    “I’ll help,” Brenda said. “But I’m not too good at public speaking. I kind of go weak in the knees. I break out in hives.”
    Tory grinned. “No, you don’t.”
    “I do,” Brenda said. “I have this fear of throwing up right on the stage.”
    “Brenda Dodd?” Tory asked. “The woman who has it together better than anyone I know, except Sylvia?”
    “Well, sorry to pop your bubble,” Brenda said. She was growing pale just talking about it. “I’ll do what I can. I mean, I can try…”
    “Me, too,” Tory said. “I don’t know what I’ll do with Hannah. But I’ll figure something out. Maybe we could do it together. Brenda could hold Hannah and work the slides, and I could speak.”
    “I could do that,” Brenda said.
    “Don’t forget Cathy. I want her to get involved, too. It might help her get her mind off of Mark.”
    “I don’t think anything is going to help get her mind off Mark,” Brenda whispered.
    “I’ve never heard her yelling like she did at the courthouse today,” Tory said in a quiet voice.
    “She seems so well-adjusted. You’d never know she had all that anger…”
    “She’s probably been wanting to say those things for years.”
    “I just wish she hadn’t said it where the kids could