Home is a place were meals are hot in their pots, waiting to feed hungry mouths. Yet, as I lie in my bed, I can’t help but think, lots of people go hungry every night. If only, if only I could help, I would relax in my house. But life goes on year after year in the house, cozy and calm. Day after day, my mom shakes me to wake, with warm caring hands. She makes me breakfast with bread and bacon. Once again, I am reminded of the people that go hungry. The only way to get this out of my head, is to have the will to act on it.