How a Happy Meal can make a difference

It was a cheeseburger Happy Meal.
You’d a thought I brought a New York strip with all the trimmings, or lobster thermador, maybe
A McDonalds cheeseburger, fries, milk – a Shrek holiday toy.
“I love fries, when they’re hot – and these are hot,” my mentee said. “I don’t even mind that you got me a cheeseburger, I love McDonalds.”
I was sick when I promised to bring Seth something for lunch before Thanksgiving. He said a Happy Meal, hamburger, no pickles.
I owed him.
He’d forgotten by Thursday.
He saw the sacks, put a hand on his head, smiled.
“Did I mention that I really like McDonalds?” he said, ketchup smeared across his face as he tried to read a book to me.
“You did, bud. That’s why we’re dong it this week.”
“Wow, these fries are really hot. Hot fries are just good.”
Of course, I had a Happy Meal, too. Seth has a 6-year-old brother. And now, he’s got a Shrek toy, too.
“I’ll help him put it together,” Seth said.
“Promise?”
“I promise.”
The lunch cost me $6.42.
Watching him devour the meal was priceless.

(There are children all over the country – the world – that need a little attention, a little care. Check here for opportunities in your community.)