What do I mean? I mean, would you turn your back on somebody in need?
Here in the UK and countries like it we are very fortunate. We have healthcare, we have emergency services, we have a welfare system for those who need genuinely it (and unfortunately, with the way it works, for those who simply opt for it as a lifestyle choice). No matter what we may say about them, even the politicians could be worse. We really do have it good here, and most of the time we don't recognise it. We might be feeling the pinch of the recession but most of us don't know what real poverty and hardship is.
Many times over I hear the more fortunate complaining about why they should help others in need. Why should we send funds when our own country is in such financial turmoil? Has nobody heard about the global money issues? Look around though. We still have a roof over our heads, some food in our cupboards, and we can make ends meet somehow. We just tend not to like compromising on our luxuries most of the time. We don't know we're born.
There is a crisis in East Africa at the moment, where they are experiencing the worst droughts in sixty years. Crops have failed and so the food prices have risen steeply. Thousands of families are at risk of malnutrition and starvation. Their animals are dying. They cannot earn money to support themselves and cannot feed their children. The situation is very, very bad.
Even those of us struggling the most here can find a way to send pennies for a bottle of water. One bottle of water will make a big difference to someone in Africa. Their gratitude for it would overwhelm us yet we don't think twice at letting the equivalent slip down the drain when we brush our teeth.
We sponsor one child through each of these charities and they do an amazing job. We sponsor Hilario in Honduras through World Vision. Our Compassion sponsored child lives in Uganda, one of the affected areas. It is her birthday next week and I'm wondering if she's healthy and strong enough to make it. Thousands aren't. I'm hoping that the £21 a month it costs us to sponsor her is enough to be making a difference not only to Doreen but to her family as a whole. I know we make a difference because she tells me. Her gratitude shines through her words. She is so thankful for the meal a day, for the opportunity to learn and for the medical attention she now receives that she never did before. We make that much of a difference to her life and not having that £21 makes no difference at all to ours. It leaves our account on the first of the month and we don't know it wasn't there in the first place.
Now is the time to help someone in crisis. Please don't turn your back.
Yesterday I learnt that 5 bloggers were today due to embark on Compassion International's trip to Kolkata, East India. It was through reading a couple of blogs from two previous trips that led me to deciding to go ahead with sponsoring our second child very soon after making the decision to sponsor the first. The bloggers first hand experience of visiting their sponsored children, and of witnessing the work of Compassion International moved my heart in so many ways.
Mary at Owlhaven, and Shannon at Rocks in my Dryer, two of several ordinary people who had been given this opportunity and whose eyes become a window into another world far from ours. And now another handful of people have taken on the role of Compassion Bloggers, chosen to show us just how little it takes to make a big, big difference.
This morning I received a letter from our sponsored child, Doreen. Doreen is eight years old, living with her father and grandmother in Uganda. We know very little about her yet. Introductions have only just been made and there is so much I want to know about her. I imagine she'd like to know about these strangers over here too.
I know that she appreciated the small monetary gift we sent her as a Christmas present, which bought her the rarity of a new dress and shoes, and of food. I know that she enjoys playing with her doll, writing and singing. I know that she lives near a sugar factory. I know that she washes utensils and cooks and cleans her home. I know that she is learning about reading and praying at her Compassion centre. I know that she thanks God for a sponsor to help her. I know these things because she said so in her second letter to me. (Her first letter was a simple "Thank you! Thank you!" on a sheet of paper.)
But the thing that stood out in the letter is her one question to me. Her one question of "When will you come to see me?".
I can't wait to find out more about her. I can't wait to get more letters, and to hear about what she's learning about, and what she hopes to become. And I would dearly love to be able to go to see her. Perhaps one day we'll find a way to make a visit possible. For now, I don't need an aeroplane ticket. £21 a month, an amount that we truly don't miss, and a letter with a stamp on it goes a long, long way to making a difference in Doreen's life.
If sponsoring a child is something you've never considered then why not just think about it? You can find out the answers to many questions on the Compassion website (or here if you're in the UK). If you think you're no good at writing letters there are plenty of ideas here. And there are plenty of updates and information on the Compassion blog too.
If it's something you've been thinking about doing but haven't done yet, then just go ahead and do it. It won't be something you'll regret.
It's been over two weeks since I wrote to our sponsored children. Two whole weeks. And I feel like it's been years.
Both World Vision and Compassion state a turnaround time of 3 -4 months for letters to be sent over, read and responded to. That's an age! Despite knowing that it is highly unlikely to hear back so soon it doesn't prevent me from looking through hopefully at the letters on the doormat after the postman has been.
I'm keen to know more about these children whose photographs are displayed with our own. I'm desperate to know that they are ok. Are they happy? What do they like doing? What do they hope for? So many questions and things that I want to know about them like I know about my own children.
Most of all I want to know that they are safe.
So I'm counting the days and wondering if they've received our letters. Did they get the pictures Harry drew for them, and the letter Caitlin wrote to them? Do they know that there is a family hundreds of miles away that think of them and say a prayer for them every day? Do they know that they are always in my thoughts and my heart?
Since deciding to sponsor Hilario he has become one of the first things I think of when I wake in the morning, and one of the last things I think of before going to sleep at night. We talk about him and about how we hope his life will be and we talk with the children about how his life differs from their own.
We were so happy that we finally took the decision to sponsor a less fortunate child than our own. We hope that our letters to him will give him hope and make him feel loved by this family so many miles away. With World Vision you are allowed to send small gifts, anything as flat or small and light as possible that will fit into an A5 sized envelope, so I've been gathering small items - packs of crayons, stickers and a small inflatable ball to send over with our letters. I'm just waiting on a couple of photographs to arrive and then our first letter will be sent. I'm already planning what I'm going to say, then replanning it and changing it. Who knew that writing a letter would be so hard to do?
But despite the decision and making the commitment I still felt an ache in my heart. I know it's not possible to change the whole world no matter how much you might want to and it's not possible to stop the suffering of every single child by yourself. But there are still so many that need help. So I have wrestled with the idea of perhaps sponsoring a second child, a girl, maybe?
But, there's the issue of money. While we're not exactly struggling neither are we wealthy. I'm pretty certain that it's only by God's grace that the bills and mortgage are paid from one month to the next, and that we have enough money for enough food (in fact, most likely more than enough food) and clothes. We may have to wait until we've saved enough money for certain things, like when Mike's car gave up the ghost, and it took us two months to save for another secondhand car, or like not having a dishwasher for four months until we had enough spare to replace it only last week, thanks to some money I received for my birthday. Our house still isn't decorated despite it being almost two years since we moved here. And we can only decorate it as and when we have saved the money to do one room at a time. We still have debts to clear (debts for what? We can't even remember how we got them. Big mistake we won't be making again), but since making the decision to get out of debt and only buy something when we have the money for it we are making steady progresss, albeit not as fast as we'd like. And then there's the whole economic climate. Is this really the time to commit to any more outgoings? Or would it simply be just stupid? But the thing is, we do manage. And we don't suffer. Some nights we may have to settle for pasta with grated cheese over the top, but we don't go to bed hungry. Some days we might have to pull on an extra jumper to curb the heating bill, but we're never at mercy to the weather. And I know my children are safe and clothed and fed.
Is it better to have a home which will take years to redecorate to taste, or no home at all? And so what if we had to replace a car? We managed it. And a dishwasher, oh come on. Did it really hurt to *gasp* wash the dishes in the sink?! But still I struggled.
Meanwhile I'd been following the bloggers who had been sent to the Dominican Republic by Compassion International. This was the second trip arranged by the charity where a selection of bloggers were allowed an "Access All Areas" trip to see the changes that sponsoring children made. Meetings on video between the sponsors and the children they had been sponsoring and writing to made my eyes sore with the tears that fell from them, and the descriptive posts from each days events made my heart ache even more.
For a while I'd been looking at the UK site for Compassion. Every now and then new children would come up and some would disappear, the ones lucky enough to be sponsored, I expect. But yesterday I saw a little girl I hadn't seen and I just knew that she was meant to be ours. You can mock me if you like, I really don't care, but I immediately knew that this little girl was there and we could make her life better. I clicked on her details. She was eight years old, but her photo made her look no older than five or six. She lived in Uganda with her father and grandmother. No mention of her mother at all. Very little information, a photograph of a girl younger than her years who still managed a very slight smile at the camera. And I just knew.
So we had another conversation.
Text from me to Mike: "Do you think we can stretch to sponsoring an eight year old girl from Uganda too?"
Text from Mike to me: "No"
Text from me to Mike: "Really?"
Text from Mike to me: "Why are you asking? You've probably done it already."
Text from me to Mike: "Actually I haven't which is why I'm asking."
Text from Mike to me: "It's up to you." (Oh, I love him!)
So I had a think. And thought that the way forward to help another child would be to deprive ours. Not really. But capping Ben and Stephanie's handouts each month would save a fair amount. Having never really done the pocket money thing we just handed over the money when they wanted to go somewhere or do something. Now we would offer them a set amount a month and once it had gone that was it. I put the idea to Ben, who agreed.
So I text Mike: "Was thinking of capping Ben and Steph's handouts to £x a month then not a penny more if they get through it. What do you think?"
Text from Mike to me: "OK, then they can work for any extra." (On top of their normal chores. Oh, we're so cruel to our children!)
Text from me to Mike: "That'll cover a second sponsorship and we'll still be better off."
Text from Mike to me: "Go on then."
Text from me to Mike: "x"
So with five minutes before I had to leave on the afternoon school run (Ben was home in the afternoon due to a half day), I quickly tapped in the online form and hit "Send".
On the way to school I had a thought that had escaped me all this time. My unused gym membership had come to an end. That would be £28 a month not leaving my account, which I had been used to not being there. This meant that both sponsorships would only make an £8 a month difference to us! So the worry over the decision making had now eased and we are confident that we can afford to help two children, only we hadn't realised it until we made the decision to do it!
The new allowance proposal still stands though! I met up with Stephanie while I was waiting to collect Harry from school, and put the proposition to her regarding a monthly allowance and the reason why. She was all for it and happy that we were sponsoring a second child. I told Caitlin and Harry about Doreen, and Harry proceeded to find Uganda on the globe and both said that they were going to tell their teachers about her tomorrow.
And me? I woke this morning without the aching (in my heart. My knees are a different matter completely). My children are learning about poverty and compassion (and geography) and how we must be grateful for what we have, rather than hankering over what we don't. And whether we actually need what we hanker over to make us really and truly happy.
And Mike and I have learnt what it feels like to have seven children in our home, but another two in our hearts.
... two pieces of junk mail, one school application form, another school letter announcing vacancies for parent governors... and our World Vision Sponsor Pack!
We have been waiting for this A5 sized envelope since last week, and as I read through the contents, and held this little boys photograph in my hand I cried. Holding this small photograph suddenly made everything so real and it made the world seem so much smaller. This is a real life, a real little person. I cried and prayed that he and his family might be safe and warm and happy, and somehow away from the rainfall and landslides and flooding currently tormenting the majority of his country. I wanted to think that he wasn't suffering at all. I didn't want to think that he might be hungry, or cold, or exhausted. I prayed that he and his family weren't part of the 270,000+ people being affected at this very moment in time, whose homes had been ruined and land and livelihoods destroyed. And I prayed that we might be able to help him have a better life.
A few hours after writing my post yesterday I came across this blogger's story of their visit to their sponsored child in Africa through the charity Compassion International. I wept as I read it, (I've cried a lot the last couple of days!) and of the profound effect it has had on her. Most of all I wept for the children who possess an awe of all things no matter how small, and a deep appreciation and gratitude of any opportunity or gift of learning, of health and of love that they receive.
I'm glad we made the decision to do this small thing, which will make a big difference, and am seriously considering a second sponsorship though Compassion International. We are so fortunate to have what we do. Our children have healthcare and food, homes and warmth, clothes and jobs... and family and love.
Last week I had a bad dream concerning one of my children. I don't want to go into details but it was enough to wake me and check on the child in question, to make sure they were still safe. Throughout the night I kept waking, the repurcussions of that dream coming back every time I closed my eyes or felt sleep coming closer.
When it was time to finally get up (not that I'm ever one to wish the night away), I couldn't stop thinking about my dream and how relieved I was that it was only a dream. But I didn't feel right. I was still upset and couldn't stop thinking about all the children who weren't safe. Who weren't warm, or fed, or clothed or happy. Who didn't have families to care for them, to dream about them and check on them in the middle of the night. I couldn't get the image of a mother, unable to help her child much as she wanted to, much as she might try. And I couldn't lift that pain from my heart.
The previous day I had got caught up in the "I wish I had... " trap. The "I wish the house was beautifully decorated", "I wish I could buy xxx", "I wish I had.... something, anything, insert want here". But that morning I had everything. I had food in the cupboards, a warm, dry home and clean water to drink. Most of all, my family were safe and happy. That dream put everything into perspective.
It wasn't enough to be thankful or grateful. I felt a strong urge to do something. So Michael and I had an in-depth discussion.
Text from me to Mike: "I think we should sponsor a child." Text from Mike to me: "OK, where?"
For the next couple of hours Caitlin and I sat at the computer trying to find out the how and where. Where to start? How to go about it? What would it achieve?
After a while we came across the Christian charity, World Vision. I was familiar with this charity as, as a young girl twenty odd years ago I would take part in the annual 24 hour sponsored fast. And after a while of reading about their work and the sponsorship programme, we had undertaken sponsorship of a 3 year old boy from Honduras.
The older children were happy and supportive of the decision. The middle ones were shocked that some children didn't have homes or clean water or *gasp* televisions! And the youngest two don't really understand yet.
One day I would like to participate in one of their Sponsor Visits, and so aim to start putting a little away as and when I can. This may not be for a few years yet but isn't unachievable. At least we'll have begun making the effort.
Sponsoring one child might not change the whole world, but hopefully it will change the world of one child less lucky than our own.
