Making a difference, one step at a time

I'm too curious to not look up the news.

Shut it down — don't find out what's going on. That's the prevailing pattern for some when everywhere comes at you with events too disturbing to absorb. We each have that patch of turf that is our life, and it takes all we've got to lay claim to it and “Live Happy,” as my sweatshirt lettering says. 

But sometimes I get a chance — or make an opportunity — to reach beyond me and change the news. Here's my small paragraph. 

I've got teen grands who listen to rap. During a recent visit I started a “rap sheet” — scribbling some lines one night for my 17-year-old musician grandson. I don't think he believed I'd come up with anything, so when I read him my first two stanzas, his eyes popped and he exclaimed, “Grandma!” It felt pretty good. 

This is what I wrote: Gotta a mother somewhere, but she's nowhere 'round me. No, I got no memory of a mama. Don't be tellin' me 'bout all the pretty ladies kissin' their babies. Dumpster kid's who I am, cryin' down there with the old tin cans. Left to die while the girl gets high. Gotta a mother somewhere, but she's nowhere 'round me.  Big black dog roamin' the alley, sniffin' the ground, heard a sound. Kept on barkin' till the boy was found. And I been lookin' ever since for the girl who threw me away. Who didn't care I was alone down there with the rotten eggs and coffee dregs. It's a brick in your head, and a rock in your heart, tryin' to climb up from a dumpster start. 

Fast forward a couple of months. I got an email from an organization I'd nominally stayed in touch with for several years. Open Arms Village is a self-sustaining community operating in Kenya, taking in children who have lost their parents and have no other place to go. The children have a home there as long as they need it, cared for by native Kenyans. They are even given help for continuing education or work as they enter adulthood. 

In the email, there was a photo of a baby boy recently found in a dumpster by a security guard. He was surrounded by excited children — their new brother — and cradled in the arms of one of his smiling new parents. When I saw that — and thought back to my rap lyrics — I knew I wanted to offer my part in making his life a success. I signed up for monthly support to Open Arms. 

The hopeless news — another grim statistic — has shifted for this little guy. He may be only one child but he's loved, and he has good ground to grow his life. He likely will never know my name — and he doesn't need to. It's enough for me that in all this mixed-up mess the world gets itself into I can be someone who gives another someone a chance to live happy.