Seems like everywhere you turn, there are options for giving to Haiti. Before you choose a charity, I recommend checking out their rating on Charity Navigator. In addition to rating charities, Charity Navigator provides tips for giving.
There are countless ways to give – and it doesn’t have to be a lot:
- Text. Text ”90999″ and $10 will be added to your cell phone bill; money that will then be donated to the Red Cross.
- Donate. Some reward credit cards are allowing you to donate a portion of your accumulated rewards. Check with your credit card company for details.
- Shop. That’s right, you can shop and give at the same time. If you haven’t a clue where to begin, The Bright Side Project can help. This week they will be featuring one business, per day, that will donate a portion of sales to the relief efforts in Haiti.
Many charities decided to give a portion of their sales to charity – even before the catastrophe in Haiti. Bee Wise Bags is one example. Ten percent of all sales are donated to Heaven’s Gate, a home in India for children with AIDS. What a wonderful way to do business - with a business that gives back. Wouldn’t you agree?
One week ago today, people around the world were going about their individual lives. We were going to work and going to school; we were rejoicing in our own celebrations and lamenting our own sorrows. We were not, for the most part, thinking of a poverty-stricken country in the carribbean called Haiti.
And then the earthquake.
As so often happens, tragedy brings us together - rich and poor, young and old, black and white – for one moment in time, we are the same. We are human. We’re husbands and wives, mothers and fathers. We laugh. We cry. And the heartbreak of one, hurts us all.
Yet we cannot truly understand.
Unless we are there in the midst of the pain and destruction … walking the rubble, smelling the stench – trying our best to help, while fighting roadblocks, despair, fear, and rage – we can view all the photos there are to see, and still not understand.
So it will be that days will turn to weeks, and weeks months ; the photos will lessen, as will the reports, and we will return to our individual lives.
And we will forget.
Yet we musn’t. We must continue to pray for those on the ground – for compassion in the face of resentment; for strength in the face of bone-deep weariness; for wisdom in the face of logistics; for integrity in the face of rebuilding; for hope in the face of utter despair. And we must continue to give – both our finances and our time – not only to Haiti, but all those in need.
Perhaps the Irish say it best, “It is in the shelter of each other that people live.” We each have a part to play. For some, money, others sweat, still others, tears. And we must continually work together – not only when we are hit with a monumental crisis – but always. We must be the voice for those who have none. We must share our wealth, our wisdom, our love – our hope. When we are strong, and our neighbor weak, we must stand up and be his shelter. It is the only way some will dare survive; it is the only way we all can truly live.
It may seem frigid here in Idaho, but we’ve got nothin’ on Sweden. Apparently the whole country is basically one large icicle. Last Saturday, for instance, it was -18 degrees F in Örebro. MINUS EIGHTEEN! So wrong. So very, very wrong.
Since my brother and his family walk most everywhere, it was time to Nordic-up. I knew my brother found a fur cap; I didn’t know they found a matching cap for Little Man … until I found this in my inbox:
{Hey, we match! Photo copyright © Dana Brueggemann. All rights reserved.}
How can there be a no-good-truly-bad day, as long as this photo is nearby? Yeah, I can’t imagine either …
So, how are your resolutions coming along? I read somewhere that most people have completely given up on resolutions by January 12th. January 12th? Seriously? As in twelve days into the new year and suddenly everyone is just ready to bag it; they’re done?
Given those statistics, I’m doing swell. Of course, I have but one goal: get my act together. But isn’t that actually several goals, you ask? Shhhhh, don’t tell me! I figure every year I set several goals and fail; but if I roll them all into one goal, I can trick myself into thinking it’s easy! One little goal … that’s all I have to accomplish …
Time will tell, but I’m thinking I may be a genius. Pretty sure.
This last weekend was one of grandparents. My mom and I are the only family members in town for my maternal grandmother; whereas my paternal grandparents boast several children and a few grandchildren. This means I am notoriously pathetic in visiting my grandma and grandpa on my dad’s side. It’s not right, but there it is.
So, my mom and I set out to visit…
I am happy to report that my grandma is happy as a clam. The woman who has lived her whole life governed by others, finally has something all her own. Mainly, bingo. Seeing her happy, made my heart happy as well. It also made me realize I want to be like her when I’m old – happy and cheery, making friends, having fun, and not at all focused on my age or ailments.
I imagine this means I better start working on it now.
We also visited my grampa, who now resides in a nursing home. Walking the cold hallways reminded me of high school, and the days I walked those very halls. You see, for one fleeting moment I considered the medical profession. One day at the nursing home and I was fairly certain that was not the route for me.
While there I learned more about the human body than I’d care to recall – was followed around by a lady with dementia who wanted to touch the “pretty lady” – and lost one of my charges in the tub. That’s correct. I did … well, we, actually. My partner in crime and I set out to give this little old lady a bath. We sat her down and strapped her in, pushed the button which carried her up – swiveled her legs over the side – and pushed the button again to carry her down.
Piece of cake, we thought. With our good fortune, we decided to add bubbles. I squirted a few in, nothing. So I added another squirt. And another. Still, nothing, so I squirted for all I was worth. When that didn’t work, we gave up and turned on the jets.
You know what’s coming, don’t you – that’s right, bubbles. Lots and lots of bubbles. Bubbles that seemed to multiply like rabbits. Oh my! said the girl. GASP! said I. We’ve got to do something, said the girl. Shovel, said I. Which we did, but we couldn’t keep up. Before long, our little old lady completely disappeared from sight! We’ve lost her, said the girl! Shovel faster! said I.
Finally, the jets were silenced, the room was filled with suds, and we could once again see our charge. Much to our surprise we found her laughing and clapping. To us it was a nightmare; to her, a bright spot.
I fear we too often forget the importance of one’s spirit. We see broken bodies, but a broken spirit is far worse. We should do everything within our power – in our own lives and those of others – to to keep our spirits alive.
