My partner and I lived in Rwanda awhile back, and there is one story that sticks in my mind above all others. A friend I got to know in Rwanda worked with an organization called Hope for Life, which provides housing and rehabilitation to children and youth living on the streets of Kigali, the capital of Rwanda. She told me the story of a 10- or 11-year-old boy who came to their center one day seeking help. He eventually shared with the center staff that he had been living on the streets for awhile with his younger brother after their parents had died. He and his brother struggled to find food and often had to steal food to get by. But there was a period of time when even stealing food wasn’t working, and every night the boys went to bed hungry. The boy at the center described the heartbreaking moment when he held his younger brother in his arms as he died from starvation. Traumatized, grieving, and starving himself, the boy eventually stumbled across the center, where he was given a place to stay and food.