I met a little boy at church on our last day in Uganda. We danced together to the music that preceded the service and then sat down to listen to a concert. I put my arm around this little boy and he sat as close to me as possible. After a while, in the spirit of our previous dancing fun, I removed my arm so that I could clap to the music, hoping he’d join me. Instead, he immediately grabbed my hand and wrapped my arm around him again. This happened several times, until I finally stopped trying to move my arm. This sweet little boy just wanted someone to hold him, to show him love, to make a connection with him. I had to leave that church service early to catch my flight back home, but before I left I made sure that that little boy knew that I loved him and that God loved him – the hands of Jesus reaching down to hug one of “the least of these.” Being the hands and feet of Jesus does not stop now that I’m back from Uganda, however. There are still people in need, both around the worl...