“For 89¢ a day you could sponsor a poverty stricken child like Rosie here in Uganda has little food, no education, and no toys to play with.” Said the short grey-haired man as he walked along a dusty, unpaved road with cardboard boxes lining the sides. There were children running around wearing almost nothing. Then a phone number scrolled across the screen.
“That’s a bunch of phooey,” said my mom as the commercial ended. “Those little brats aren’t our problem anyhow.”
“Mom,” I said, “what if you were in there shoes. No toys, no food, no clothes, no education. And anyways, it’s only 89¢ a day, that’s less than it would cost for a candy bar. I’d be willing to give up a measly candy bar to help these poor children.”
“I see your point, I guess it’s not much anyways. Do you happen to remember the phone number?” said mom.
“Yes, I’m pretty sure it was 1-800-630-9010.”
“O.K.” said mom, “I’ll call right now.”
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