Just a week or two ago I posted about Nelson Mandela and the world wide idea of doing something in your community with 67 minutes of your time. As a means of honouring his sacrifices and commitment to being the best that he could be, it gave us a chance to be the best that we could be too.
Being drawn to the elderly, downtrodden and homeless, the natural choice for me, and achievable, was to make some food for those in need.
We made a huge pot of soup and K and my my eleven year old were roped in to help with the transportation of afore mentioned pot, now brimming with it's nurturing goodness. And some ice cream for afters.
Getting my son involved was not unintentional. We had discussed what he would like to contribute and he had come up with walking someone's dog, or helping out at our local S.P.C.A.
But by taking him with us I wanted him to be exposed to that which he takes so for granted; parents, a home, warm bed, privacy, quiet.
All to often, being an only child, he is indulged and spoilt and has no idea that he has more than most.
Every morning and evening we give thanks for our meals and our blessings, he has an interesting concept of God, and his prayers often include fanciful thanks like ' thank you for the trees that give us air, the rain clouds that give us water and the cows that give us calcium'. Or ' please God help those poor people on the street to find a trolley and help them them to stay dry...'
Walking around their 'home', seeing their bunk beds and shared shoes and not a toy in sight, he listened as our guide told us about who these children were and how they had come to being there.
These children are between eight and eighteen, 15 in all. Not all are orphans, some have parents that are addicts, some are homeless, born on the street,whose parents are vagrants, and some are there for their own safety.
But all the children share one common link, everything they use, wear, eat, has been donated.
They are there because someone cared enough to see the need and build them a home.
Driving away after cheerful good buys I was reminded that to these children we must be a little ray of hope, a little bright spark in an other wise dreary existence filled with routine and rivalry.
But sparks soon die, as do memories, if one does nothing to ignite a fire that can do more than entertain for a few minutes or hours.
Hopefully tonight when my boy says his prayers it will be with a different knowledge and consideration. One where he has a better understanding of life, even if it is in a small way, and perhaps his heart has been opened to do more, give more, be more.
Because is that not what it is all about?
ADDENDUM:
Six of the oldest children donated THEIR time today and spent their 67 minutes at an old age home, cleaning the garden. How's that for awesome!
Being drawn to the elderly, downtrodden and homeless, the natural choice for me, and achievable, was to make some food for those in need.
We made a huge pot of soup and K and my my eleven year old were roped in to help with the transportation of afore mentioned pot, now brimming with it's nurturing goodness. And some ice cream for afters.
Getting my son involved was not unintentional. We had discussed what he would like to contribute and he had come up with walking someone's dog, or helping out at our local S.P.C.A.
But by taking him with us I wanted him to be exposed to that which he takes so for granted; parents, a home, warm bed, privacy, quiet.
All to often, being an only child, he is indulged and spoilt and has no idea that he has more than most.
Every morning and evening we give thanks for our meals and our blessings, he has an interesting concept of God, and his prayers often include fanciful thanks like ' thank you for the trees that give us air, the rain clouds that give us water and the cows that give us calcium'. Or ' please God help those poor people on the street to find a trolley and help them them to stay dry...'
Walking around their 'home', seeing their bunk beds and shared shoes and not a toy in sight, he listened as our guide told us about who these children were and how they had come to being there.
These children are between eight and eighteen, 15 in all. Not all are orphans, some have parents that are addicts, some are homeless, born on the street,whose parents are vagrants, and some are there for their own safety.
But all the children share one common link, everything they use, wear, eat, has been donated.
They are there because someone cared enough to see the need and build them a home.
Driving away after cheerful good buys I was reminded that to these children we must be a little ray of hope, a little bright spark in an other wise dreary existence filled with routine and rivalry.
But sparks soon die, as do memories, if one does nothing to ignite a fire that can do more than entertain for a few minutes or hours.
Hopefully tonight when my boy says his prayers it will be with a different knowledge and consideration. One where he has a better understanding of life, even if it is in a small way, and perhaps his heart has been opened to do more, give more, be more.
Because is that not what it is all about?
Six of the oldest children donated THEIR time today and spent their 67 minutes at an old age home, cleaning the garden. How's that for awesome!
http://justnotliketheothers.blogspot.com
No comments:
Post a Comment
Thank you, for visiting The Helderberg Basin Blog