Our hearts have been stretched, we recently found out, but it happened slowly. Poverty, food shortage, contaminated water, starvation--these words bring images to my mind of children with bulging bellies and scarred skin. They were problems a million miles away that I thought could do nothing about, so I put up a mental wall of protection. If I saw pictures or heard pleas for help, I would ignore them, thinking it was too big of a problem for me to deal with, or I justified my inaction with the idea that the funds were most likely not going to get to those who needed the help, and even if they did, it would be a drop in a bucket. I had heard for years about “sponsoring a child” from Africa or India or the like. It never moved me. When I was 33 and our daughter was almost two years old, I suffered a miscarriage of twins. At the time it was the most devastating event of my life. My husband and I mourned their loss and couldn’t help bu...