Driving along the dusty, winding back roads that would soon be my meal delivery route, the same thought kept haunting me.

"I'll never remember everyone and I know I'll get lost."

Little did I know that not only would I remember each and every name and learn the route like the back of my hand, but that the whole experience would touch my life in countless ways.

I was 26 years old at the time, a stay-at-home mom to my five-year-old son and three-year-old daughter. When asked by a friend if I'd be interested in delivering meals, I hesitated. How would I manage it every day with two little kids in tow?

The answer? One day at a time. I soon realized that as hard as it was to load up the kids and the meals and as time-consuming as the two-hour route was each day, it was well worth the effort. We were often the only visitors our "clients" had in a day, and for some this was their only meal. What little time I could spare to chat was so appreciated that we soon had many adopted grandparents.

At nearly every stop it was clear to see that we were the highlight of the day for these folks. I would spend a few minutes chatting before I went on to the next stop and it was always hard to leave. But, as much as the hot meal and short visit were appreciated, they really enjoyed the children the most.

One of our stops was at a senior apartment complex, where we delivered meals to several of the residents. Each apartment was laid out in the same way, with the kitchen at the front and a "dinette" counter. Some of the residents would leave little treats for the kids on the counter, whatever they had on hand. Sometimes a little candy, sometimes loose change and occasionally, a cookie. They got such a kick out of the kids' bashful "thank-you" and the twinkle in their eyes at the sight of the treat.

In the two years that the kids and I did our route, we experienced the happiness of congratulating two of our "grandparents" on their new marriage and the sadness of sharing our condolences when someone passed away. We learned that a grumpy old man will eventually soften up if you keep "killing him with kindness" and that sometimes you have to introduce yourself again each day to remind someone of who you are.

We had really good days where we sang silly songs in the car and shared a lunch sack full of "Grandpa Strand's" homemade chocolate chip cookies.

We also had some really bad days, like when we got stuck in an unplowed driveway and had to call for help, or when the next restroom was just too far to hold it. No, it wasn't easy, but it was a wonderful experience that I look back on with fondness.

After two years, expecting my third child, I gave up my route. There were some tearful good-byes as I realized I might never see these people again. Soon after, we moved away. I often think about them and wonder how they have fared.

We touched the lives of our "adopted family" and they touched our lives in return. Today, my son and daughter are 14 and 12-years-old. They have only vague memories of the people and the experience, but a deeper respect for the elderly than many kids do at their age. And that is certainly worth a lot.

If you would like to be a bright spot in someone's life, consider volunteer meal delivery. To find a service in your area, check the government pages in your phone book. Look for a listing under County Social Services, Senior Services, Home Delivered Meals or call your Social Services Department for information on services offered in your area. They generally will work with the schedule of days you are available and also pay mileage for fuel and car maintenance expenses.

Bio: Heather Haapoja is the weekly Stress Help columnist at Child Care Magazine online http://www.dataworkz.com/childcaremagazine/StressHelp.htm and an aspiring children's author.