He has not forgotten them. After about 120 of 125 beds were given, my attention was turned to this one little girl. In her I saw my young niece. In her, I saw me. Her name was Monica. As usual, there were more kids than beds. As our partner who was helping to call the children up one by one to receive their beds began to call her name, he stopped after the first syllable. The hope and excitement in her face as she jumped up was quickly wiped away and exchanged with worry or fear. In that moment I was so moved. I pictured my niece or myself as a child in desperate anticipation. I immediately was rooting for her to receive the gift. Thankfully, she did! But it was too late, my heart was ripped apart at the thought of any of these eagerly awaiting children not receiving a bed. I began to cry and I had to walk away. I couldn’t watch any of these children get turned away. And then…in an instant I realized, they weren’t crying. So why was I? I was ashamed to let them see me cry.