91热爆

With Christmas right around the bend and a pile of presents piled under our Christmas tree in our snug coal-fire-warmed living room I can't help but think of the Poor of this world who have nothing - all year long.

Mother Teresa of Calcutta had a very wise saying. If her words were followed by everyone on the Planet we would not have any poverty:

"This is the meaning of truest love, to give until it hurts..."

Give until it hurts.

I used to wonder what on earth she meant by this. Years passed as I splashed out money left and right for fashionable clothes and the latest music CDs and every other trendy and "must have" thing shoved at me via advertisements. TV is pretty slick - the advertisements and shows have you believing that if you do not have the latest trendy things or the perfect body, then you are the ultimate nerd. The underlying message is, "Everyone will be laughing at you!"

That hurts. Being laughed at and judged as "uncool" is extremely painful. I bent over backwards to try and avoid that pain.

I fell into the "Me Me Me" culture and became totally wrapped up in Myself. Everything was about Me And My Needs. All people had to fulfil me emotionally - or they were "bad". Everyone had to be considerate of my self esteem and my feelings. My body had to submit to my culturally-induced ideas of perfection. I spared hardly a thought for my neighbor or even my family - let alone the truly Poor of the world. How could I? I was too busy worrying about me - and getting my needs fulfilled by anyone and everyone that had anything to do with me.

In America you are considered "poor" if you don't have 300 tv channels, two cars, daily trips to Starbucks and enough (trendy) clothes to outfit an entire African tribe.

I'd fill my closet with trendy clothes while people starved to death on the streets all over the world. I'd look down my nose at anyone wearing anything less then the latest fashion. And then the styles would change so I'd toss my clothes to the charity shops and splash out more and more money to keep up with the latest trends. Never did I think of the little children all over the world who die from simple illnesses or from starvation - children who could have lived if I had given them the sixty bucks I paid for a new skirt. They didn't have TVs because they didn't even have homes. While I felt sorry for myself because I had to leave the house in last year's shoes ("What will people think of me when they see these out-of-style shoes??") there were millions of refugees wandering hundreds of miles on bleeding bare feet who would have thrown themselves on those shoes with thanksgiving.

And then...something happened. I used to ignore those "silly" tear-jerker commercials on the TV that would beg for us to sponsor little kids. I'd look away and say, "Bah! What hypocrites! They use up all the money paying their own wages and hardly anything gets to the kids." And I'd flounce into my well-stocked kitchen and help myself to expensive health food that I bought as I walked on my way home in trendy workout clothes from my pricey gym. (After all, having the perfect body was necessary for survival. People might laugh at me otherwise!)

But people were planting seeds. They asked me tough questions like, "Where do you think you clothes and your household goods come from?" I ran from the question but the answers were everywhere: Sweatshops. Child labor. Slave labor. People going hungry stitching my shoes and my clothes and making my dishes and furniture in roasting-hot shops with locked doors. No one allowed out. No one given a break. The tiny children not even given a drink of water. All so that I could buy these items and "be cool." They stayed poor so I could stay rich. I was comfortable at their expense.

How could I be ok with this?

Ah, but I found a loophole! A way out! "How much of a difference can I, one small insignificant person, make in this big suffering world? Well, since I can't make a difference I'm excused from doing anything."

That's when someone called me out on my idiotic excuse and told me a story. "One day an old man was walking along the beach at low tide. The beach was littered with thousands of stranded starfish. A younger man noticed that the old man kept bending down, picking up a starfish and tossing it into the sea. He said to himself, 'What a stupid thing to do.' He marched up to the old man and said to him, 'Old man, why on earth do you waste your time flinging a few starfish back into the sea? There are so many of them stranded on the beach that it's not going to matter!" The old man looked at the younger man for a moment. Then, as he bent down and picked up a starfish and tossed it into the sea he said to the younger man, "'It mattered to that one.'"

Point taken.

It mattered to that one.

I remembered when I was a kid I used to set up dominoes so that when I pushed the first domino it fell forward and the entire row of dominoes would swiftly fall one after the other. It mattered to that one. If I reached out to one person, just one single person, it would matter to them more then I could imagine. And what if that one person grew up into an adult who was determined to help someone as they had been helped? What if they became a doctor or a teacher or a community leader and taught a whole group of kids about helping and giving? It would start off like the old man making a tiny difference amongst thousands of stranded starfish - and it would fall forward like a line of dominoes.

But what about me? How on earth could I afford to sponsor a child? All of my money was budgeted and I hardly had anything to put into savings - let alone use for saving kids!

And the thought struck me: what do I actually need to be healthy, happy and warm? Trendy clothes? A constant supply of new music CDs? Do I really need to replace these shoes simply because they are going out of style? Did I really need to have this many pairs of jeans and that many skirts and all of these blouses and shirts?? Could I walk instead of taking a taxi? (That would save $10...) And what about my fancy coffee for $8 a pound? If I kept these shoes I would save $45...

Pretty soon it started to add up. As I gave my life a very hard and honest look I realized that there were many things that I could sacrifice without any terrible thing falling upon me. I wouldn't die if people giggled at my shoes. I wouldn't get burned at the stake if I had a small wardrobe. And instead of an expensive gym membership why not walk almost everywhere?? And work out at home with dumbbells and a big exercise ball?

"This is the meaning of truest love, to give until it hurts..."

It wasn't the giving up of things that hurt. And it wasn't the spending of money on child sponsorship that hurt. It was exposing of myself to being snickered at by people who thought themselves so superior to me, as I walked around in last year's trends, that hurt. It was the snooty looks I got from people in the stores or on my University campus that bored into me like a thousand thorns. It pained me greatly to sit at home and sip bargan-brand instant coffee instead of perching elegantly in a trendy coffee shop seeing and being seen. It crucified me to walk around with a normal hairdo rather then a trendy $75 haircut maintained by $100 worth of name-brand hair products.

And it still hurts. I feel like I am being stabbed by a thousand spears when I walk into the restroom on the Hamnavoe ferry and see the little girls snickering at me while their mothers stare at me and then look at one another with a smirk on their faces. I want to say to them, "Who cares what I am wearing - what matters is PEOPLE ARE DYING for lack of food and medical care! And please, teach your rude little girls some manners!!!"

I want to crawl under a rock and die as I am laughed at by a group of young people in the fish and chip shop in Kirkwall. I want to walk over to them and say to them, "You think you're all that. You think you are so tough sitting in your group laughing at me - but are you tough enough to spend a year in Liberia building houses for old men and old women?"

It's not that I expect everyone to do the same thing that I am doing. I don't judge a person because they are wearing trendy clothes or yacking on a mobile phone or driving a nice car. I do not despise anyone for having a good and comfortable life. I have a good and comfortable life! You don't see me living in a byre!

What bothers me is that folks are not content to live and let live. Those who would be the first to cry "You are judging me!!" are also the first to snicker and laugh at someone they think does not meet their standards. If someone wants to wear trendy clothes and drive a nice car and have the trappings of a technological society far be it from me to say that they are doing something wrong. They are doing their own thing as they feel led. It is their choice, not mine, how they live their lives. I have my own faults and failings to work out and fix - it's not my job to go around pointing out other peoples' faults when I have plenty of my own! But please, don't look down your nose at me for doing my thing. What good are we doing in this world when we cause someone else pain?? What's the point?

What do we gain except a momentary feeling of superiority? And how does that make the world a better place?

Sometimes when I go home and I cringe because I feel so stupid and ugly after a day out in town wearing my $20 homemade outfit and scuffed shoes. My clothes are clean. They are not full of holes. I'm not walking around in a manure bag. But we have this idea that if someone isn't doing what *I* think is cool then I have the right to laugh at them.

How does this make the world a better place?

Just when I am about to give up and whip out my debit card so I can buy up a whole wardrobe of fashionable clothes and end the humiliation I see their faces. Their happy glowing faces lit up in smiles. Their eyes full of hope. Their faces fatter in the recent photo - much fatter then when I first saw their pictures.

I stop feeling sorry for myself as I read their letters and they say, "My mother (or my father...brother...grandfather - whoever they live with) sends you her most loving greetings and thanks you greatly for everything you have done for us. We had our medical checkup today and we were also given a bed to sleep on..."

"I thank you so much, my dear beloved sponsor, for paying for my school supplies so that I can attend primary 4..."

"...I passed all of my exams and can go into the next grade because you have paid for my fees and my uniform and my supplies..."

"My grandfather sends his love and thanks you for your sponsorship. He praises God that he is finally out of his wheelchair and able to walk. He is 80 years old and lives a very hard life..." (As I read his information sheet I'm shocked to find that his tarpaper shack is "unnaceptable - in deplorable condition and it needs to be rebuilt.")

"After her father died the family had no income and no hope. Because of your sponsorship this child will not have to fear being sold into a brothel..."

"And we pool the donations from each sponsor so that we can build schools and clean water points all over the country. After teaching the children and their families to wash their hands after using the toilet the disease rate has dropped dramatically..."

"We have chickens and ducks now!..."

I see their faces. I know their names. We exchange countless letters back and forth. I am a part of their lives and they are a part of mine. Even their school friends and neighbors send their loving greetings to me!

When the thorns and spears strike at me because I am not "cool" and I sip cheap instant coffee and I look like a complete nerd with my wild hair and homemade clothes I think of them.

And I smile.

"This is the meaning of truest love, to give until it hurts..."

P.S. Not everyone laughs or snickers. No, it's not that bad at all. But trust me, when one person snickers or one group of people laugh it feels like the whole world is laughing. Doesn't it? And we try so hard to avoid that pain.