My young visitors from Uganda posed some interesting questions: Do people in America really eat frogs? Why don’t you put an “s” on deer to mean more than one? If I catch a fish, can I eat it? Do you have blue nail polish? Is that fudge?

I answered as best I could: Yes, but just the legs; they taste like chicken. I have no idea. Yes! No, sorry, just pink and red. No, it’s fog; fudge is candy.

However, their most thought-provoking question came almost every mealtime: May I have some more?

These kids were adorable and incredibly polite. They thanked me for everything from cooking breakfast to folding their laundry. And they always cleaned their plates before asking for more.

The two boys and two girls who stayed with us for a couple of nights are members of the Ugandan Kids Choir. The choir is made up of 10 children between 9 and 12 years old from some of the poorest areas of Uganda. Each year since 2006, the Christian charity Childcare Worldwide has assembled a choir of talented kids and sent them on a tour around the U.S. performing traditional Ugandan music and dance, as well as familiar Christian hymns. The kids also serve as ambassadors for the organization, which provides food, education and medical care in many impoverished countries through child sponsorship.

When we heard they needed host families for the children while they were in my area, we figured it would be fun to have young kids in the house for a few days, but ever since they left I’ve been thinking about that question: May I have some more?

It’s hard to imagine answering no. When my own children were growing up, I was fortunate that I was never in a position when I had to say no. Sure, maybe I’d say, “No you may not have any more mashed potatoes until you finish your Brussels sprouts.” Or “No, you can’t have more fried chicken because we ate it all, but I can warm you up some leftover meatloaf.” Or even, “Put down that cupcake; you’ve already had three, and if you eat any more sugar, you might explode.”

Certainly, I never had to tell a child, “No, if you eat it all now, there won’t be anything to eat tomorrow.” Or, even worse, “No, there isn’t any more.”

Unfortunately, solving the world’s hunger problems isn’t as easy as passing a plate of pancakes or hamburgers down the table to a hungry kid. Those of us who produce food like to think we help feed the world, but so many factors that contribute to world hunger are beyond our control as individuals: social problems, corrupt governments and wars, as well as earthquakes, hurricanes and other disasters that disrupt food supply chains. The scope of the problem can be paralyzing, but the four kids I fed for a few days proved to me that targeted programs to fight hunger can save or transform lives. Individually, we might not be able to eliminate hunger for everyone, but maybe we can make a difference for individuals.