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We came apon the wooden shack on a cold December night. There wasn't one soul among us who had eaten in the past week. Hudled and cold, we trudged our way through the bleakness; the faint outline of the small shanty our beacon of hope. <br /><br />Our pace quickened. Hope is a powerful tool, and the new hope that surged through us gave us the strength to carry on. Hour after hour passed, with us inching closer to the shack with each minute shed. As we approached the small cabin, our hearts were about to leap out of our chests, and our stomachs out of our guts at the thought of food. Our hope were quickly dashed, however, for upon opening the door...

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(New-York, NY)
Amazon Customer