Of all the descriptive words in my eulogy, “altruistic” would send me beaming with pride to the afterlife. It’s a daily goal for me, to think of others. But like other daily goals, such as cleaning out the cat’s litter and not eating processed snack cakes … it’s not always attained and frequently accomplished better by others. I yearn for the opportunity to prove myself Giving. That sounds admirable, but it actually rots. Because for me, being tuned in to doing good for others actually means constantly comparing myself to those who make utter sacrificial lambs of themselves, thus compelling me to eat more of said processed snack cakes. You’ve heard of a type A personality? Well, I’m a type C, with four children under the age of eleven. I need altruistic moves that give me a lot of bang for my buck.
I’ve always heard that to be successful, you must do something you love. I figured that model would work with volunteering. Okay, I thought … I love … fabrics and wallpaper!!! With a big sigh, I admitted to myself that the only great love in my life is my family. How could I find something that benefited others, but at the same time, enriched my own children’s lives? I happened upon a newspaper article about The Fresh Air Fund. The article explained that families could host a child from New York’s inner city for ten days in the summer, providing them with experiences they would never have otherwise. Well, I thought to myself, it’s just one more! I made the call to the Fund’s local representative, ego shining.
Last summer, we hosted an eight-year-old boy from Brooklyn, named Lamique. We were warned that the first year of hosting was tough. Expectations don’t always get met. All six of us, with welcome posters in hand, waited for the Fresh Air bus to arrive at a local elementary school. When he stepped off the bus and saw us holding posters with his name in glitter, he immediately smiled a shy smile, and I thought to myself, “This is going to be okay.”
We took him home. At first I was intimidated about entertaining him, and hid in the kitchen to gather my thoughts while the kids gave him a tour of the house. A couple of minutes later, I heard Lamique yell, “Whoa!” and he raced into the kitchen to announce to me that he’d never seen an attic before. That’s when I started to relax. If our attic was enough to evoke excitement, this was going to be a cinch! He rode bikes, worked on his swimming skills, tried tennis, and even had a piano lesson. My favorite memory, however, is of the first time he attempted the shore of the Atlantic Ocean. He and I stood and watched the water rush past our feet. The next second, he was flat on his face in the water! He’d never felt the tremendous pull of the ocean, and as the wave rushed back towards the surf, he was caught off balance. As he staggered back up, he instinctively grabbed my hand, and we stood there, letting the waves rush back and forth past our legs. I laughed and cried at the look of incredulousness on his face … evoking that tired yet brilliant Mastercard campaign … truly priceless stuff. And that same child, by the end of the week, was body surfing better than my own! His tenacity when faced with new experiences amazed me. But not everything was new to him. We were proud to take him to Busch Gardens in Williamsburg, VA only to find out he’d been to Disney World earlier in the year. (If you don’t already know, Disney is the great equalizer.) He and his brothers owned all the popular electronic gadgets, like Wii. The superficial reasons I gave my children for hosting Lamique didn’t jive in their little suburban-bubbled heads. They were just plain jealous! I often found myself attempting to explain Socioeconomics. This is a tough subject to teach youth, but I did my best to navigate appropriately. Lamique did most of the educating by just being a relatable kid. But by the end of the visit, I was physically and emotionally exhausted from using my heart.
