Since February, my-six-year-old cousin, Lula, has been saving her money up to buy a companion for her American Girl doll. In her universe, dolls are a big priority and one of her favorite pastimes.
Last week, Lula got her orange Trick-or-Treat for UNICEF collection box in anticipation of Halloween. Maybe because she is older, this time she asked questions and made a connection between the money she will donate and the children who will benefit.
"Six cents can save a life, Mommy," she said to my cousin, "and a dollar can give water to 40 kids!" Later that night, my cousin noticed that the Trick-or-Treat box had grown heavy. Lula had carefully extracted the contents of her piggy bank/American Girl Fund and inserted them into her box.
Even though her mother was overcome with love and pride at this discovery, she wanted to be sure that Lula understood the consequences of giving her entire nest egg away. Translation: starting over from zero and possibly waiting another year to purchase her American Girl doll, an eternity for a six year old.
Lula didn't blink. She understood. She insisted that she wants to help other kids who need medicine and clean water to keep them alive.
I could cry at her innocence, sweetness… conviction. Would I give over my nest egg to help children survive? Ok, maybe not my nest egg. You have to have some money to live on, right? Would I forgo my equivalent of an American Girl doll? Would I deprive myself of manicures, mascara and magazines to save a life? The money I part with so easily on superficial expenses that make me feel good? Wouldn't I feel even better than "good" if I knew I was saving a life instead?
For nine years, I have worked at the U.S. Fund for UNICEF. I know that we raise and appropriate financial contributions with the utmost integrity. I have seen the tangible results of those donations-in-action from Ethiopia and Indonesia to the Ukraine and Guatemala. I've met the kids who survived and flourished and been present at the deaths of those who did not.
And still, four days before Halloween, I am asking myself how Lula has it so right, and so many of us have it so wrong.
The best part of this story? Lula is not unique. Unprompted, my 7-year-old nephews also dumped their piggy banks into their TOT boxes, adding $14.58 more toward child survival programs. For nearly 60 years, millions of children across the U.S. have forgone candy on Halloween, collecting pennies for UNICEF instead. In total, they have raised more than $140 million.
This coming Friday, let's remember that the children who come to our doors asking for money instead of candy are not motivated by self-interest. They believe they are saving lives. And they are.
Comments (1)
I LOVE this story. Mainly because we live in a counrty where kids (and most adults), have lost the generosity that once existed. This just goes to show that family values and good parenting still exist.
Posted by Niki Sharac | October 29, 2008 4:20 PM
Posted on October 29, 2008 16:20