Wish Upon a Hero is a website dedicated to granting wishes. Founder Dave Girgenti wanted to create an online community that offered a place for people to help others after the attacks on Sept. 11 and Hurricane Katrina, working under the mantra of “No wish too large and no hero too small.”
"Wish Upon A Hero is completely free to its users, allowing everyone who registers the opportunity to cast up to three wishes at a time. Because Wish Upon A Hero is designed to help everyone, wishes can be big or small, elaborate or simple, based on financial need or just asking for a simple favor." ~ WUAH website.
The website was suggested to me from a friend who has used it many times; to grant wishes, and also to cast a few of her own. I love that there - a stranger can help a stranger, and can remain anonymous if they wish. People that have never met, and probably never will are doing things, big and small to help in any way they can...
I thought about the spirit of giving as I dropped off some clothes, a few toys and a couple of housewares at a donation site this afternoon. My son sat strapped into his carseat, watching me through the window as I heaved the heavy bag out of my trunk and over to the donation box. He laughed and waved to me and I made a silly face and waved back. I realized at that moment that I was giving more than just items to a family that needed them, I was giving the gift of giving to my son and to myself. Sure, he might be a little young to understand the concept this time, and thats ok. He'll definitely grow older... And I so look forward to the many more holidays I get to spend showing him that Christmas isn't just about how many presents are wrapped under the tree, but how giving can be a present in itself.
Who knows who he'll be a Hero to someday :)
Monday, December 20, 2010
Thursday, December 9, 2010
Day 10: Down Right Beautiful!
Once in my younger years, a stranger in passing whispered to the woman she was walking with, "I wonder if that girl has some kind of genetic thing?" I immediately knew they were referring to the unusual way my nose is shaped, with the nonexistent bridge between my eyes, so it makes a curved "scoop" down to the bulbous tip... I remember having a heavy heart about that off-handed comment that I wasn't supposed to overhear or even understand for quite some time. My nose was a very tender subject for me; one that I was teased about at home and at school. Though I knew my family meant well and the "teasing" was more of a way to try to make me feel better about myself, my school-mates didn't shrare their affection. Their taunts and remarks were more of the brutal kind. And many a well-meaning parent looked at me through squinty eyes before realizing that they had been staring, only to shrug it off and go about their business.
I hit a turning point in junior high when, after a heart to heart with one of my still close girlfriends, I realized that my nose - was just a nose. I could let it bother me the rest of my life, or I could embrace it. I started to notice all of the ways that I stood out from those around me, and the differences made me... happy. Almost proud. If I wasn't going to "fit in" I planned on "sticking out" to the best of my ability. I was unique; no one else had a nose that looked like mine. Thats when the closeted extrovert in me got to crack open the door a little. I made some new friends, I joined a few clubs. It all seemed pretty easy then, once I learned that being liked meant I had to like myself first. Thats not to say that I wasn't still met with those who were uncomfortable with my strange appearance. And I still heard some hurtful things that would set me back a little. But there was no turning back now. I liked the way it felt to accept myself, even if some others out right refused to agree.
In high school I joined the dance team, where the Angel that was our dance instructor encouraged us to reach out, volunteer, get outside of our comfort bubbles. I took the challenge with an eager heart. We took trips to the Union Gospel Mission to visit the children, and community service was a requirement of being a member of the team. My junior year I volunteered to help with a project with the Discovery class of special needs students. I walked into a classroom that was full of excited, smiling, exuberant students. They all greeted me with an enthusiastic "Nice to meet you!" and I made about 8 immediate friends! After the project was completed, I visited with my new pals as often as possible. I would stop by their classroom to see what new things they were learning, and some would call to me down the hallway to wish me a good afternoon.
Once in a group conversation at lunch I was asked why I "got involved with those other kids". My response was "Why not?" The asker of the question was known for being a particularly 'loud mouthed' student, of whom I had made some attempts to befriend. Their constant negativity brought me down, and so I intentionally limited our interactions. Those other kids were my friends, what did it matter to why I got 'involved'? This person, I quickly assumed, was another of those that wasn't comfortable with the different or unique. And then it dawned on me, perhaps this nay-sayer was an old me. Maybe there was something they hadn't come to accept about themselves. My visions of this person being hateful were turned into seeing that they just needed to learn to love themselves. Then they might be able to love even the other kids. After that point I quit trying to avoid them, to trying to at least make peace with them. If only to show that I was different, and I accepted that fact, and that it was all going to be ok. When we graduated, we were still just acquintances. We hadn't become bosom buddies, but I had hopes that maybe I helped them in some small way.
Since those days, I've been blessed to make some awesome new friends. My husband and I had no idea when we bought our house after we were married, that we had hit the neighbor jackpot!! Little did we know that just across the street were 4 souls waiting to touch our lives. (and a few years after we moved in, a 5th little soul tip-toed her way into our hearts) The 'K' crew, as we so affectionately refer to them, have taught us so much about acceptance, life and more in the 5 short years we've come to know - and love - them. We've shared triumphs, as well as hopes and fears and dreams. And laughs. Oh, so many great laughs.
Those beautiful babies' Mommy blogs over at Welcome to my world... where she shares her darling son's prayer and the wonderful workings of his amazing heart.
The National Down Syndrome Society's website offers this: "[The NDSS] envisions a world in which all people with Down Syndrome have the opportunity to enhance their quality of life, realize their life aspirations, and become valued members of welcoming communities."
That precious angel of a child, as well as his whole family has taught me to realize some of my life's aspirations. They have most definitely enhanced my quality of life and have made my husband, son and myself feel like valued members of our little, close knit community of neighboring houses. We were blessed beyond belief to have been given the opportunity to be a part of their lives, as they are a part of ours.
I so look forward to more Beautiful moments with the best neighbors that anyone could ever ask for!
 |
| a young Emily with her 'Papa' |
I hit a turning point in junior high when, after a heart to heart with one of my still close girlfriends, I realized that my nose - was just a nose. I could let it bother me the rest of my life, or I could embrace it. I started to notice all of the ways that I stood out from those around me, and the differences made me... happy. Almost proud. If I wasn't going to "fit in" I planned on "sticking out" to the best of my ability. I was unique; no one else had a nose that looked like mine. Thats when the closeted extrovert in me got to crack open the door a little. I made some new friends, I joined a few clubs. It all seemed pretty easy then, once I learned that being liked meant I had to like myself first. Thats not to say that I wasn't still met with those who were uncomfortable with my strange appearance. And I still heard some hurtful things that would set me back a little. But there was no turning back now. I liked the way it felt to accept myself, even if some others out right refused to agree.
In high school I joined the dance team, where the Angel that was our dance instructor encouraged us to reach out, volunteer, get outside of our comfort bubbles. I took the challenge with an eager heart. We took trips to the Union Gospel Mission to visit the children, and community service was a requirement of being a member of the team. My junior year I volunteered to help with a project with the Discovery class of special needs students. I walked into a classroom that was full of excited, smiling, exuberant students. They all greeted me with an enthusiastic "Nice to meet you!" and I made about 8 immediate friends! After the project was completed, I visited with my new pals as often as possible. I would stop by their classroom to see what new things they were learning, and some would call to me down the hallway to wish me a good afternoon.
Once in a group conversation at lunch I was asked why I "got involved with those other kids". My response was "Why not?" The asker of the question was known for being a particularly 'loud mouthed' student, of whom I had made some attempts to befriend. Their constant negativity brought me down, and so I intentionally limited our interactions. Those other kids were my friends, what did it matter to why I got 'involved'? This person, I quickly assumed, was another of those that wasn't comfortable with the different or unique. And then it dawned on me, perhaps this nay-sayer was an old me. Maybe there was something they hadn't come to accept about themselves. My visions of this person being hateful were turned into seeing that they just needed to learn to love themselves. Then they might be able to love even the other kids. After that point I quit trying to avoid them, to trying to at least make peace with them. If only to show that I was different, and I accepted that fact, and that it was all going to be ok. When we graduated, we were still just acquintances. We hadn't become bosom buddies, but I had hopes that maybe I helped them in some small way.
Since those days, I've been blessed to make some awesome new friends. My husband and I had no idea when we bought our house after we were married, that we had hit the neighbor jackpot!! Little did we know that just across the street were 4 souls waiting to touch our lives. (and a few years after we moved in, a 5th little soul tip-toed her way into our hearts) The 'K' crew, as we so affectionately refer to them, have taught us so much about acceptance, life and more in the 5 short years we've come to know - and love - them. We've shared triumphs, as well as hopes and fears and dreams. And laughs. Oh, so many great laughs.
 |
| Kare-Bear, Koltie and K-Mo |
 |
| Down Right Beautiful! |
The National Down Syndrome Society's website offers this: "[The NDSS] envisions a world in which all people with Down Syndrome have the opportunity to enhance their quality of life, realize their life aspirations, and become valued members of welcoming communities."
That precious angel of a child, as well as his whole family has taught me to realize some of my life's aspirations. They have most definitely enhanced my quality of life and have made my husband, son and myself feel like valued members of our little, close knit community of neighboring houses. We were blessed beyond belief to have been given the opportunity to be a part of their lives, as they are a part of ours.
I so look forward to more Beautiful moments with the best neighbors that anyone could ever ask for!
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
Locks of Love
I've cut it short, I've dyed it red, brown and blonde. I've teased it, straightened it. I've pinned it, curled it, burned it (oops), highlighted it, pulled it and let it be. My hair has been through quite a bit in my 26 years on earth. But its always grown back, on my head and some other places of my body I wish it wouldn't... But if its one thing this life has taught me (with some very trying lessons) its not to take anything for granted. There are some children who would give all they could just to have a head-full of "normal" hair. Children who have been through far worse than 'a bad hair day'. Children who want to go outside and play with their friends, and not be stared at and labeled "different".
Locks of Love is organization that provides self confidence to those children that find themselves facing adversity in a dark time in their lives... "Locks of Love is a public non-profit organization that provides hairpieces to financially disadvantaged children in the United States and Canada [under age 21] suffering from long-term medical hair loss from any diagnosis. We meet a unique need for children by using donated hair to create the highest quality hair prosthetics. Most of the children helped by Locks of Love have lost their hair due to a medical condition called alopecia areata, which has no known cause or cure. The prostheses we provide help to restore their self-esteem and their confidence, enabling them to face the world and their peers."
The website states that *anyone* can donate hair. There are a few guidelines, the biggest one being that bleached hair (aka highlighted) is unacceptable, as it reacts with the chemicals that they use to treat the donated hair. Hair is used from men and women, young and old, all colors and races.
The next time you go to have your coif did, why not consider donating it to a child that could use a little boost? Maybe cut it a little shorter than you originally considered. The minimum length is 10 inches, tip to tip. How great would it be to encourage your daughter that can grow hair overnight to donate her ponytail to a boy or girl that can't grow it themselves? Was something ever done for you that was really wonderful? Is it time to 'pay it forward'? :)
Locks of Love is organization that provides self confidence to those children that find themselves facing adversity in a dark time in their lives... "Locks of Love is a public non-profit organization that provides hairpieces to financially disadvantaged children in the United States and Canada [under age 21] suffering from long-term medical hair loss from any diagnosis. We meet a unique need for children by using donated hair to create the highest quality hair prosthetics. Most of the children helped by Locks of Love have lost their hair due to a medical condition called alopecia areata, which has no known cause or cure. The prostheses we provide help to restore their self-esteem and their confidence, enabling them to face the world and their peers."
The website states that *anyone* can donate hair. There are a few guidelines, the biggest one being that bleached hair (aka highlighted) is unacceptable, as it reacts with the chemicals that they use to treat the donated hair. Hair is used from men and women, young and old, all colors and races.
The next time you go to have your coif did, why not consider donating it to a child that could use a little boost? Maybe cut it a little shorter than you originally considered. The minimum length is 10 inches, tip to tip. How great would it be to encourage your daughter that can grow hair overnight to donate her ponytail to a boy or girl that can't grow it themselves? Was something ever done for you that was really wonderful? Is it time to 'pay it forward'? :)
Monday, December 6, 2010
Dizzy spells, sleep and fun with ICE
Plainly put: this weekend left absolutely zero time for blogging. Friday night I was hit with a crazy dizzy spell that could have taken down an elephant. I took some phenergan for the nausea and completely crashed at 900. I had high hopes of staying up until midnight and going with my awesome neighbors to the local WalMart to pick up my copy of the "Eclipse" DVD (yes, I'm a 'Twilight Mom'). No such luck. I didn't move from my position of laying sideways across the bed until 430 a.m. when I woke up, changed into some pajamas (I was still in my day clothes) unwound the covers and went back to sleep. Turns out, my loving and adorable husband went to said store at "uh, probably 1230 or 1 a.m." to purchase my movie. It was waiting for me on our lamp table when I woke with our son at 8 a.m. Saturday morning.
And most of Saturday was spent trying to sleep off the effects of the anti-nausea medicine I had taken the night before. Wes and I cuddled in the recliner reading books (still in our pjs) or layed on the floor playing blocks. The entire house (dogs included) napped from about 12 to 2 p.m. We didn't dress for the day until about 4 when we went out to get some sunshine, and grab a (light) bite to eat.
Sunday (after a night of very restful sleep), we woke rejuvinated and were treated to the awesomeness that is the Gaylord Hotel's ICE exhibit. The theme this year was "A Charlie Brown Christmas" -- a very, very cold tent (approx. 12 to 17 degrees F) filled to the max with ice sculptures depicting Charles Schulz's imagination at its best.
And most of Saturday was spent trying to sleep off the effects of the anti-nausea medicine I had taken the night before. Wes and I cuddled in the recliner reading books (still in our pjs) or layed on the floor playing blocks. The entire house (dogs included) napped from about 12 to 2 p.m. We didn't dress for the day until about 4 when we went out to get some sunshine, and grab a (light) bite to eat.
Sunday (after a night of very restful sleep), we woke rejuvinated and were treated to the awesomeness that is the Gaylord Hotel's ICE exhibit. The theme this year was "A Charlie Brown Christmas" -- a very, very cold tent (approx. 12 to 17 degrees F) filled to the max with ice sculptures depicting Charles Schulz's imagination at its best.
We had such a great time. We took the scenic route home, and even stopped off at Big Daddy's favorite Camping/Hunting Outfitters store to let Wes see the big "Pishies!" (fish)
All in all, an entire weekend spent with my small family of 3 and an outing with our large family of 14 (minus a sister and her hubby) makes for a happy and grateful mama.
P.S. While I didn't post about any 'service' this weekend -- I did go through my clothes and have quite a hefty bag ready for donation! :)
P.P.S. I am also doing (most) 'service' posts on my personal FB acct. Friday's was Friends of Wednesday's Child ~ "Friends of Wednesday's Child steps in to help make [a foster child's] new life in foster care joyful and to ensure that their needs are met. Friends of Wednesday's Child is the only organization that provides funds to fulfill the specific needs of North Texas foster children when no one else can or will so they are able to have as normal a childhood as possible." and today (Monday's) is Susan G. Komen for the Cure
P.P.P.S. Watch for tomorrow's post on Locks of Love!
Thursday, December 2, 2010
Day 3: Whats warm, snorts and has a curly tail?
An orange tabby cat named Milo and a fawn pug named Otis pawed their way into my heart when I was about 5 years old. The furry stars of the Japanese-made film won over many a child's heart in America. My Mom bought the VHS for me as a Christmas gift the year it debuted and that was about the time that my unabashed love for Pugs began.
Something about the bug eyes, wet nose and curly tail of a Pug just totally melts my heart! Many members of my family are/have been Pug owners. Currently, my great aunt, second cousin and sister all have pups from the same mommy pug. My mom and dad adopted Ousier Boudreaux the Pug when I was in junior high. (yes, they named her after Shirley MacLaine's character in Steel Magnolias) She was a BEAUTIFUL tiny fawn female pug with a heart of pure gold. Oh, how my mother adored that dog. And my crazy fawn girl, Bridget, was rescued from a rather unsanitary home in a chicken cage in September of 2007. "Pidgie" as I called her, held fast to my side through some of my most trying moments while trying to conceive. Sadly, she passed away in March of 2009 when I was 7 months pregnant with my son. I still miss her...
So its no question that the DFW Pug Rescue is so near and dear to my heart. They take abandoned and/or abused pugs and find foster homes for them until they are placed with a "forever family". The Rescue's "no pug left behind" slogan really, truly describes their practices. Be it old, sick, blind, deaf --- no pug is denied.
But a pug's heart is just as big as their attitude! They are great family dogs; almost always aim to please and are ready to play at the drop of a hat. Most L.O.V.E. to cuddle and make great compaions.
My husband and I are currently parents to 3 "furbabies" -- 2 chihuahuas and a shephard mix. He sometimes pulls up the pugs available for adoption on the website and asks if I'm ready to be a Pug mama again. The ache in my chest for Bridget has yet to heal, and I know we are far too busy with our toddler and 3 poochies to be ready to welcome another couch Pugtato into our home and hearts.
If you find yourself just absolutely unable to pinch the pennies any tighter this holiday season, perhaps you can dig elsewhere to find something to donate? Most rescues and animal shelters will take blankets, towels, bowls and even some kitchen gadgets! Do your spring cleaning a little early and see if you might be able to help our 4 legged (and maybe even some 3 legged) friends.
Something about the bug eyes, wet nose and curly tail of a Pug just totally melts my heart! Many members of my family are/have been Pug owners. Currently, my great aunt, second cousin and sister all have pups from the same mommy pug. My mom and dad adopted Ousier Boudreaux the Pug when I was in junior high. (yes, they named her after Shirley MacLaine's character in Steel Magnolias) She was a BEAUTIFUL tiny fawn female pug with a heart of pure gold. Oh, how my mother adored that dog. And my crazy fawn girl, Bridget, was rescued from a rather unsanitary home in a chicken cage in September of 2007. "Pidgie" as I called her, held fast to my side through some of my most trying moments while trying to conceive. Sadly, she passed away in March of 2009 when I was 7 months pregnant with my son. I still miss her...
So its no question that the DFW Pug Rescue is so near and dear to my heart. They take abandoned and/or abused pugs and find foster homes for them until they are placed with a "forever family". The Rescue's "no pug left behind" slogan really, truly describes their practices. Be it old, sick, blind, deaf --- no pug is denied.
"We rescue ALL pugs regardless of age or medical condition. Since we rescue ALL pugs, our veterinary care is our biggest on-going expense and we average approximately $150,000 a year in veterinary expenses. This amount is after our veterinary care clinics provide deep discounts. 100% of all funds donated to DFW Pug Rescue are used to pay for Veterinary care."Pugs really aren't "just dogs". They actually rank among the most demanding breed to care for. The folds in their faces need to be minded and kept clean. They are VERY prone to scratching their cornea's and needing eye surgeries (due to the bulging way their eyes are set). Some can have awful skin allergies, and do not tolerate heat and cold. This is probably a large contributing factor to why there is a need for such rescue.
But a pug's heart is just as big as their attitude! They are great family dogs; almost always aim to please and are ready to play at the drop of a hat. Most L.O.V.E. to cuddle and make great compaions.
My husband and I are currently parents to 3 "furbabies" -- 2 chihuahuas and a shephard mix. He sometimes pulls up the pugs available for adoption on the website and asks if I'm ready to be a Pug mama again. The ache in my chest for Bridget has yet to heal, and I know we are far too busy with our toddler and 3 poochies to be ready to welcome another couch Pugtato into our home and hearts.
If you find yourself just absolutely unable to pinch the pennies any tighter this holiday season, perhaps you can dig elsewhere to find something to donate? Most rescues and animal shelters will take blankets, towels, bowls and even some kitchen gadgets! Do your spring cleaning a little early and see if you might be able to help our 4 legged (and maybe even some 3 legged) friends.
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
Day 2: The Young and the Ruthless
I got an envelope in the mail yesterday with the print on the front claiming that there was a special gift tucked away inside for me. I opened the letter from St. Jude Children's Research Hospital to find a picture of a cancer fighting 2 year old little girl looking back at me. The gift was my yearly holiday themed address labels for me to use on my Christmas cards (and I do!). Guess my second day of service was literally staring me in the face. I've logged on this morning to www.stjude.org and browsed the site. To be honest, I usually just mail in a check whenever they send me a letter. It never occurred to me - until today - that I could save the paper and just donate online... wake up call. Serving sick children and Mother Earth both at the same time.
I didn't always support St. Jude monetarily. I didn't always know that there were so many children struggling to fight illnesses that my experiences taught me only "elderly" people got. Once while gathering with friends at Chili's, the waitress brought around a stack of 6x6ish inch papers with chili peppers printed on them, and a couple of crayons. She instructed that if we would like to donate $1 to St. Jude's and color a chili however we chose, that they would hang it up in their restaurant. I did so, and thought more about how creative I could be with the crayons and piece of paper than how my single donated dollar was going to help St. Jude's fund research to help kids not much younger than me live a little longer. A short while after the Chili's evening, I caught a tv special on an early Saturday or Sunday morning with Alec Baldwin narrating stories about 3 different children that had gone to St. Jude's in order to treat their Leukemia and brain tumors. Two of the children did not live through their treatments, but the other got to go home to the arms of her very happy and loving family. I sat and bawled, I could not turn the channel.
To quote the website about the history of St. Jude's:
But I'm not just writing about St. Jude's to get you to open your pocket book. I'm asking more that you open your heart. I'm asking that you be grateful for every healthy child in your life. I'm asking that you not take your own health for granted, or even that of your siblings, parents, grandparents or neighbors. Some children are born into this world and only live a short while. Some parents will visit headstones this Christmas, while you are sitting warm in your living room, holding your loved ones close.
So lets give thanks for a place like St. Jude's for all they're doing for the young people in this world. They are the ones, after all, that will take our places when we've gone. Help me share the story of these deserving kiddos that are *ruthlessly* fighting cancer for the right to live their lives every day?
Thank you!
I didn't always support St. Jude monetarily. I didn't always know that there were so many children struggling to fight illnesses that my experiences taught me only "elderly" people got. Once while gathering with friends at Chili's, the waitress brought around a stack of 6x6ish inch papers with chili peppers printed on them, and a couple of crayons. She instructed that if we would like to donate $1 to St. Jude's and color a chili however we chose, that they would hang it up in their restaurant. I did so, and thought more about how creative I could be with the crayons and piece of paper than how my single donated dollar was going to help St. Jude's fund research to help kids not much younger than me live a little longer. A short while after the Chili's evening, I caught a tv special on an early Saturday or Sunday morning with Alec Baldwin narrating stories about 3 different children that had gone to St. Jude's in order to treat their Leukemia and brain tumors. Two of the children did not live through their treatments, but the other got to go home to the arms of her very happy and loving family. I sat and bawled, I could not turn the channel.
To quote the website about the history of St. Jude's:
"When late entertainer Danny Thomas opened the doors to St. Jude Children’s Research Hospital in 1962, he was not just changing the lives of those children who would walk through its doors. He was changing lives across the world."Yes, my life was changed that morning. I knew I wanted to be a Mother to my own children someday; what if my children ever had to visit St. Jude's? When I donated, I knew then that I had supported them, if they should ever have to support us through a very trying time; but that wasn't my only reason for giving. Cancer had taken the lives of my grandmother and grandfather just a few years before. Cancer is everywhere. It touches families: babies, toddlers, kids, teens, mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, aunts, uncles, cousins.... friends. If my single dollar went towards givng a Mother an extra day to spend with her daughter or son, then it was money well spent.
But I'm not just writing about St. Jude's to get you to open your pocket book. I'm asking more that you open your heart. I'm asking that you be grateful for every healthy child in your life. I'm asking that you not take your own health for granted, or even that of your siblings, parents, grandparents or neighbors. Some children are born into this world and only live a short while. Some parents will visit headstones this Christmas, while you are sitting warm in your living room, holding your loved ones close.
So lets give thanks for a place like St. Jude's for all they're doing for the young people in this world. They are the ones, after all, that will take our places when we've gone. Help me share the story of these deserving kiddos that are *ruthlessly* fighting cancer for the right to live their lives every day?
Thank you!
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