Use your [big] head! http://link.brightcove.com/services/player/bcpid1543292789?bctid=3130509001 And if you have it to share, by all means do so! " PULITZER PRIZE " winning photo taken in 1994 during the Sudan famine. The picture depicts a famine stricken child crawling towards an United Nations food camp, located a kilometer away. The vulture is waiting for the child to die so that it can eat it. This picture shocked the whole world. No one knows what happened to the child, including the photographer Kevin Carter who left the place as soon as the photograph was taken. Three months later he committed suicide due to depression.
That was great! Care is getting a laptop. The family is getting a LED 46" tv, Wii, blue ray and home theater.
"Oh wow! I'm married to you!" That was classic. "Moustache remover"?.....LOL! (FTR, I'm folding clothes, tonight..............no.......seriously)
That photo absolutely tears at my heart. I don't have much, but one thing I can't stand to see, is someone that has less than me. I give back whenever I can. My conscience won't allow otherwise.
Photo didn't show for me (at first). Now that I see it..... Two things tear at my heart more than others: 1. ANYONE hungry & 2. ANYONE cold. We're doing what we can.
LOL at the video! I asked for a new vacuum cleaner for Christmas (and my birthday), two years in a row. Finally bought one myself. It's not like my ex bought me jewelry either. He would give me nothing for Christmas or my B'day. I'd spend 600-1000.00 on stuff like a tablesaw/drill press/tool chests/guns... and he'd give me a note. "Love you" Yeah, that's cute the first time. Four years in a row.... No so much. (and it's not like I didn't make a wish list every year.....) The picture is heartbreaking. Like I need to cry anymore today. It's a good reminder tho' to remember and help those less fortunate than us.
Same here. Didn't see the bottom half of Wills post. This year with the girls living with us really changes my perspective on giving. Carie and I have always been generous with charities. It's different when things happen under your own roof.
Christine, I'm guilty... I almost bought my wife the electric start snow blower so she wouldn't have such a hard time pull starting the old one...lol... J/K. Both the video and the photo were wake up calls for me... Here's a great Christmas Story Rocky Steers (YoungFart) shared with me. This also drove it home! Enjoy! "Pa never had much compassion for the lazy or those who squandered their means and then never had enough for the necessities. But for those who were genuinely in need, his heart was as big as all outdoors. It was from him that I learned the greatest joy in life comes from giving, not from receiving. It was Christmas Eve 1881. I was fifteen years old and feeling like the world had caved in on me because there just hadn't been enough money to buy me the rifle that I'd wanted for Christmas. We did the chores early that night for some reason. I just figured Pa wanted a little extra time so we could read in the Bible. After supper was over I took my boots off and stretched out in front of the fireplace and waited for Pa to get down the old Bible. I was still feeling sorry for myself and, to be honest, I wasn't in much of a mood to read Scriptures. But Pa didn't get the Bible, instead he bundled up again and went outside. I couldn't figure it out because we had already done all the chores. I didn't worry about it long though, I was too busy wallowing in self-pity. Soon Pa came back in. It was a cold clear night out and there was ice in his beard. "Come on, Matt," he said. "Bundle up good, it's cold out tonight." I was really upset then. Not only wasn't I getting the rifle for Christmas, now Pa was dragging me out in the cold, and for no earthly reason that I could see. We'd already done all the chores, and I couldn't think of anything else that needed doing, especially not on a night like this. But I knew Pa was not very patient at one dragging one's feet when he'd told them to do something, so I got up and put my boots back on and got my cap, coat, and mittens. Ma gave me a mysterious smile as I opened the door to leave the house. Something was up, but I didn't know what.. Outside, I became even more dismayed. There in front of the house was the work team, already hitched to the big sled. Whatever it was we were going to do wasn't going to be a short, quick, little job. I could tell. We never hitched up this sled unless we were going to haul a big load. Pa was already up on the seat, reins in hand. I reluctantly climbed up beside him.The cold was already biting at me. I wasn't happy. When I was on, Pa pulled the sled around the house and stopped in front of the woodshed. He got off and I followed. "I think we'll put on the high sideboards," he said."Here, help me." The high sideboards! It had been a bigger job than I wanted to do with just the low sideboards on, but whatever it was we were going to do would be a lot bigger with the high side boards on. After we had exchanged the sideboards, Pa went into the woodshed and came out with an armload of wood - the wood I'd spent all summer hauling down from the mountain, and then all fall sawing into blocks and splitting. What was he doing? Finally I said something. "Pa," I asked, "what are you doing?" "You been by the Widow Jensen's lately?" he asked. The Widow Jensen lived about two miles down the road. Her husband had died a year or so before and left her with three children, the oldest being eight. Sure, I'd been by, but so what? Yeah," I said, "Why?" "I rode by just today," Pa said. "Little Jakey was out digging around in the woodpile trying to find a few chips. They're out of wood, Matt." That was all he said and then he turned and went back into the woodshed for another armload of wood. I followed him. We loaded the sled so high that I began to wonder if the horses would be able to pull it. Finally, Pa called a halt to our loading, then we went to the smoke house and Pa took down a big ham and a side of bacon. He handed them to me and told me to put them in the sled and wait. When he returned he was carrying a sack of flour over his right shoulder and a smaller sack of something in his left hand. "What's in the little sack?" I asked. Shoes, they're out of shoes. Little Jakey just had gunny sacks wrapped around his feet when he was out in the woodpile this morning. I got the children a little candy too. It just wouldn't be Christmas without a little candy."
We rode the two miles to Widow Jensen's pretty much in silence. I tried to think through what Pa was doing. We didn't have much by worldly standards. Of course, we did have a big woodpile, though most of what was left now was still in the form of logs that I would have to saw into blocks and split before we could use it. We also had meat and flour, so we could spare that, but I knew we didn't have any money, so why was Pa buying them shoes and candy? Really, why was he doing any of this? Widow Jensen had closer neighbors than us; it shouldn't have been our concern. We came in from the blind side of the Jensen house and unloaded the wood as quietly as possible, then we took the meat and flour and shoes to the door. We knocked. The door opened a crack and a timid voice said, "Who is it?" "Lucas Miles, Ma'am, and my son, Matt, could we come in for a bit?" Widow Jensen opened the door and let us in. She had a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. The children were wrapped in another and were sitting in front of the fireplace by a very small fire that hardly gave off any heat at all. Widow Jensen fumbled with a match and finally lit the lamp. "We brought you a few things, Ma'am," Pa said and set down the sack of flour. I put the meat on the table. Then Pa handed her the sack that had the shoes in it. She opened it hesitantly and took the shoes out one pair at a time. There was a pair for her and one for each of the children-sturdy shoes, the best, shoes that would last. I watched her carefully. She bit her lower lip to keep it from trembling and then tears filled her eyes and started running down her cheeks. She looked up at Pa like she wanted to say something, but it wouldn't come out. "We brought a load of wood too, Ma'am," Pa said. He turned to me and said, "Matt, go bring in enough to last awhile. Let's get that fire up to size and heat this place up." I wasn't the same person when I went back out to bring in the wood. I had a big lump in my throat and as much as I hate to admit it, there were tears in my eyes too. In my mind I kept seeing those three kids huddled around the fireplace and their mother standing there with tears running down her cheeks with so much gratitude in her heart that she couldn't speak. My heart swelled within me and a joy that I'd never known before, filled my soul. I had given at Christmas many times before, but never when it had made so much difference. I could see we were literally saving the lives of these people. I soon had the fire blazing and everyone's spirits soared. The kids started giggling when Pa handed them each a piece of candy and Widow Jensen looked on with a smile that probably hadn't crossed her face for a long time. She finally turned to us. "God bless you," she said. "I know the Lord has sent you. The children and I have been praying that he would send one of his angels to spare us." In spite of myself, the lump returned to my throat and the tears welled up in my eyes again. I'd never thought of Pa in those exact terms before, but after Widow Jensen mentioned it I could see that it was probably true. I was sure that a better man than Pa had never walked the earth. I started remembering all the times he had gone out of his way for Ma and me, and many others.The list seemed endless as I thought on it. Pa insisted that everyone try on the shoes before we left. I was amazed when they all fit and I wondered how he had known what sizes to get. Then I guessed that if he was on an errand for the Lord that the Lord would make sure he got the right sizes. Tears were running down Widow Jensen's face again when we stood up to leave. Pa took each of the kids in his big arms and gave them a hug. They clung to him and didn't want us to go. I could see that they missed their Pa, and I was glad that I still had mine. At the door Pa turned to Widow Jensen and said, "The Mrs. wanted me to invite you and the children over for Christmas dinner tomorrow. The turkey will be more than the three of us can eat, and a man can get cantankerous if he has to eat turkey for too many meals. We'll be by to get you about eleven. It'll be nice to have some little ones around again. Matt, here, hasn't been little for quite a spell." I was the youngest. My two brothers and two sisters had all married and had moved away. Widow Jensen nodded and said, "Thank you, Brother Miles. I don't have to say, May the Lord bless you, I know for certain that He will." Out on the sled I felt a warmth that came from deep within and I didn't even notice the cold. When we had gone a ways, Pa turned to me and said, "Matt,I want you to know something. Your ma and me have been tucking a little money away here and there all year so we could buy that rifle for you, but we didn't have quite enough. Then yesterday a man who owed me a little money from years back came by to make things square. Your ma and me were real excited, thinking that now we could get you that rifle, and I started into town this morning to do just that, but on the way I saw little Jakey out scratching in the woodpile with his feet wrapped in those gunny sacks and I knew what I had to do. Son, I spent the money for shoes and a little candy for those children. I hope you understand." I understood, and my eyes became wet with tears again. I understood very well, and I was so glad Pa had done it. Now the rifle seemed very low on my list of priorities. Pa had given me a lot more. He had given me the look on Widow Jensen's face and the radiant smiles of her three children. For the rest of my life, whenever I saw any of the Jensens, or split a block of wood, I remembered, and remembering brought back that same joy I felt riding home beside Pa that night. Pa had given me much more than a rifle that night, he had given me the best Christmas of my life." Pm me your addy and I'll make sure you get something nice!
It's photos like those, and the knowing that conditions like that exist for people in this world that make me actually feel guilty for what I have.
Great story, Will. Thanks for taking the time to type that. I was 17 when I met someone that truly taught me to never judge another person. It wasn't his intent, but the story of how he ended up homeless that made me realize it. I'll admit I'm not a fan of laziness, but it really doesn't matter to me why someone is asking for food. All I know is, if I were standing on the side of the road asking for food, I hope someone would help. I don't ask why they are there, and I truly do not care. I've caught grief from friends who were riding with me when I've stopped to give money or food to someone. They say things like "he could get a job if he really wanted", "you should have grabbed him an application while you were getting him food at McDonalds", or "he'll just spend it on booze". Again, I really don't care. I don't make it my business to know why he/she is there asking for help. Like Matt in the story, my parents "dragged" us around to help those less fortunate. I complained many times. I never truly understood why we needed to help. Now, I'm glad they dragged us along. I don't offer help for any recognition. I stopped typing this at one point because I didn't want anyone to think I was patting myself on the back. I continued typing in hopes that it might open someone's eyes. Don't judge others. If someone needs help, please help them. $5 to you could be the first meal in 3 days to someone else. A little can go a long way. Alright, thats about as serious as I can be for an extended period of time. Especially on this site.
Good stuff, Wilbur. Thanks. My dad was telling me a story, once, about him growing up. He said he got a $2 wooden car for Christmas one year.....and how happy he was with it. My grandparents lived comfortably, later in life (not lavishly). But, there were tough days back then. When my dad died, I got a lot of old papers from my grandparents homeplace. There's a bill of sale in them (I still have it) for $700. That's what my grandpa paid for the lumber to build his house. That house was the site of 90% of the fondest memories in my lifetime. Lisa and I have never exchanged gifts. Paltry as it is, we do what we can. Thanks, again, Will. We all need a reality check from time to time.
