A few weeks ago, I slid into a chair in council chambers in a Dallas/Fort Worth city. I checked my watch and turned on my iPad. Like every second and fourth Tuesday night of the month, I was there to cover the meeting for a local newspaper.
The agenda for that night’s meeting was light, and I was glad. I was tired. I had been at city hall since earlier that afternoon when I covered a press conference put on by the mayor. I was ready to get home and eat something with chocolate and go to bed early.
About halfway through the meeting, the double doors in the back opened loudly and mayor stopped talking. He had skipped over something earlier on the agenda, but I hadn’t noticed. All eyes turned to the back of the room where three high school girls stood. Two of the girls, beautiful and slender with skinny jeans and track jackets, flanked another girl, who was shorter and had stringy red hair she had pulled back in a ponytail. They were ushered to the front of the room and the mayor started telling their story.
Read what happens over at HeartSupport.