Once upon a time, in a faraway place called Kenya, there was a kind man named Father Leonel.

He lived in a hot, dry part of the desert where the wind blew dust all day long. But Father Leonel didn’t mind. He had a big heart and a bright smile, and he always came to help.

He used to visit a little office in the big city of Nairobi. There, he would ask for things the people in the desert needed — like flour to make bread, medicine for the sick, or parts to fix the water well. He never stayed long, but he always smiled at a poster on the wall. It said, “When I give food to the poor, they call me a saint. When I ask why the poor are hungry, they call me a troublemaker.”

One day, Father Leonel came with a new idea.
“I need goats,” he said.
“Goats?” we asked, surprised.

“Yes,” he said, gently. “I want to start a goat bank.”

We had never heard of such a thing! He explained that in his village, some girls were told to marry before they were ready. Families were very poor and didn’t know how to say no. But if those families had goats, they could say, “We’re okay for now. Our daughters will stay in school.”

So, Father Leonel had a plan.
He would give goats to families, one by one.
The goats would have babies.
The babies could go to other families.
And soon, everyone would have goats!
It was a Goat Bank — full of kindness.

We thought that was a wonderful idea. So we gave Father Leonel a check to buy the goats.

He smiled his shy smile, just like always, and went back to his village. There, under the dusty sky, he started the first goat bank in the world.

And little by little, hope began to grow — with every “baa” and every baby goat — in the hearts of girls who now had a future.

By Palmarí H. de Lucena