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It was a cold evening and my daughter and I were walking up Broadway．I didn't notice a guy sitting inside a cardboard box．But Nora did．She wasn't even four, but she 1 at my coat and said, “That man's cold．Daddy, 2 we take him home?”
I don't remember my reply．But I do remember a sudden 3 feeling inside me．I had always been delighted at how much my daughter noticed in her 4 , whether it was 5 in flight or children playing．But now she was noticing 6 and beggary．
A few days later, I saw an article in the newspaper about volunteers who picked up a food package from a nearby school on a Sunday morning and 7 it to an elderly person．It was quick and easy．I 8 us up．Nora was 9 about it．She could understand the importance of food, so she could easily see how 10 our job was．When Sunday came, she was ready, but I had to 11 myself to leave the house to fetch the food package．On my way to the school, I fought an urge to turn 12 ．The Sunday paper and coffee were waiting for me at home．Why do this? 13 , we phoned the elderly person we'd been appointed．She 14 us right over．
The building was in a bad state．Facing us was a silver-haired woman in an old dress．She took the package and asked us to come in．Nora ran inside．I unwillingly followed． 15 inside, I saw that the apartment belonged to someone poor．Our hostess showed us some photos．Nora played and when it came time to say goodbye, we three hugged, I walked home in tears．
Professionals call such a(n) 16 “a volunteer opportunity”．They are opportunities, I've come to see．Where else but as volunteers do you have the opportunity to do something 17 that's good for others as well as for yourself? Nora and I regularly serve meals to needy people and 18 clothes for the homeless．Yet, as I've 19 her grow over these past four years, I still wonder-which of us has 20 more?
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