A few months ago I was sitting at the red light of a busy intersection when I noticed a man walking toward my car. He stepped off the curb, bypassed several vehicles, and started waving at me. He carried a cardboard sign under his arm, a jammed pack on his back. His jeans were baggy, his beard scraggly, and he was calling my name, "Max! Max! Remember me?"

I lowered my window. He smiled a toothless grin. [He said], "I still remember that burger you bought me." Then I remembered. Months, maybe a year earlier, at this very intersection, I had taken him to a corner hamburger stand where we enjoyed a meal together. He was California-bound on that day. "I'm passing through Texas again," he told me. The light changed, and cars began to honk. I pulled away, leaving him waving and shouting, "Thanks for the burger, Max."

I'd long since forgotten that meal. Not him. We never know what one meal will do …. When we provide food stamps, we stave off hunger. But when we invite the hungry to our tables, we address the deeper issues of value and self-worth.