The Giving Heart

I had a moment with Judah during the week.

We were watching the news as a family while eating dinner – which almost never happens in our house because of all the violence and death and bad news that you tend to be bombarded with. But, I’d been a bit out of touch with what was going on in our world, and thought it might be a good idea to play catch up.

The kids were talking about bacon and trying to out-sing eachother in nursery rhymes; and a story came on about babies and young children dying in Yemen from starvation. Dave and I watched these small, skeletal babies in hospital, unable to keep any food down, and their mothers, their hearts breaking, desperate to prevent their children from slowly starving to death. No food, no milk, no jobs, and no money.

During the piece, Judah stropped singing, and watched intently; there was a moment where I almost got up and turned it off, but I didn’t. And when it finished, his questions began.

Why are those babies so sick?

Why can’t his mummy give him food so that he can be strong?

Does his daddy have a job?

Why doesn’t his Grannie give him food?

Is the doctor fixing him?

Why are the people fighting where he is?

Dave and I very slowly and carefully answered his queries, and explained the best way that we could - which is a tricky thing when your listener is only nearly four years old. I didn’t want him to be frightened, or to be overwhelmed – and I would have gladly held off on such a discussion for another three years until his understanding of the world and his place in it grew.

But, there we were, sitting at the table and talking to our boy about big things.

And while my heart was saddened for the loss of the beautiful way that he viewed the world, Judah’s compassionate heart sought to find a way to help:

Can I take the little baby my dinner so he can grow big and strong?

No sweetheart, that babe lives a very long way away. He’s in the hospital, and the doctors are helping him the best way that they can, I said.

Then I will get on three planes and walk to where he is and find all the food and give it to him so that he can be strong, he said with determination.

I was so proud of him.

Since then, we’ve had a (Judah initiated and very gently explained) daily conversation about that little baby and children in need; and while he is broadening in his understanding, he’s also interested in finding solutions and ways in which we can help. So this morning, I suggested that we take an empty jar from the cupboard, and start saving some of our pocket money to send to babies and kids that need help.

That is a very good idea Mum, he said. You can take all the money from my piggy bank and send it to the kids, so that they can be big and strong.

So very proud.

As I write this post, I’m smiling at the generosity that children have when given the opportunity to help others in need; and while it’s a discussion that I thought we’d be having in a few years, it really has reinforced for me the idea that you’re never to young to give, or to be giving. And who knows where this spark of generosity may lead? If it enables Judah to be a more compassionate child, or to grow into a man who feels the plight of others and seeks to make a difference, then embracing it now may just be the best thing we’ve ever done.

Nat

Image from joojoo on Etsy.



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A quick question to the blogging community: I can’t seem to comment on a lot of my regular read and favourite blogs. I’ll be sent to my sign in page a thousand times, only to return to the comment I’m trying to send.

Any tips? It’s driving me balmy!

Nat

1,000 Cranes = 1 wish

I loved the story of Sadako and the Thousand Paper Cranes as a child.

For those who don’t know it, it is the devastating and heartbreaking tale of Sadako Sasaki, who was just two years old when the atomic bomb was dropped near her home in Hiroshima, Japan.  At 12 years old, she was diagnosed with leukaemia, and given a year to live. But an ancient Japanese story, narrated to her by her best friend Chizuko, gives her hope: A promise that whoever should fold 1,000 origami paper cranes would be granted one wish by a crane.

Sadly, Sadako never reached her goal, dying within eight months of diagnosis, with still more than 300 cranes still to fold; but the simplicity and beauty of her story has become a symbol for hope for thousands all over the world.

Today, I found New Zealand blogger and Mum, Maddie, from Lil Magoolie, who has a mission on her hands – to make 2,000 origami cranes for two healing wishes: one for a shaken Christchurch, and one for a devastated Japan.

I’ve been watching as our world is turned upside down, my heart breaking for our brothers and sisters across the sea. I believe in the childlike magic of wishes, and in the power of prayers for healing and restoration. And I can make paper cranes.

So today, I’m folding cranes to contribute towards Maddie’s grand total. The kids have been helping by drawing all kinds of things this morning, and I'm folding up their stories and scribbles (for lack of ornate origami paper).

 Will you help too?

Nat

Ps. Don’t know how to make a crane? You’ll find a link to an origami tutorial here.

Please send your handmade cranes to:

1000 Cranes / One wish
c/o 3C Design
14 Marion Street
Hoon Hay  Christchurch  8025
New Zealand