“I’m here to do a job,” I say to myself as I walk into the Mooresville Christian Mission, carrying my fancy $250 digital camera with my two-month-old $175 North Face jacket half-zipped up. Sure, I might be wearing a pair of shoes that have been falling apart for nearly a year and I’m clearly in desperate need of a touch-up to my highlighted hair, but my personal version of “poor” in no way compares to what I see before me.
Here are people – perhaps down on their luck this holiday season or maybe just unable to truly make a moderate living – spending what little they do have on worn clothing, discarded household items and used toys in the hopes of making a better Christmas for their families. Some are even inquiring about free food they can obtain. They actually struggle. They truly need. They face hardships I can’t even imagine.
And there I am, not exactly “rich,” but evidently different.
People like myself – the middle class 20somethings, if you will – often feel as though we’re tackling the same battles that those individuals I encountered earlier today deal with on a daily basis. We cry “I’m poor,” we complain about our inability to purchase a new cell phone or iPod, yet we have no real idea what it means to seriously contemplate foregoing gift-giving because the heat bill can’t be paid. We’re the people who have bad days when it comes to cash flow, maybe even bad weeks or months on occasion. These people are the ones who confront bad years or even lifetimes. Their struggles are different than our own, no matter how much we sometimes feel they’re similar.
Yet they, and even we, are the ones most willing to give, most eager to volunteer our time or put up what little we may have in the hopes of brightening someone’s holiday.
It’s the student teacher who decides he’ll assist at the soup kitchen and buy holiday gifts for a six-year-old girl he doesn’t know. It’s the college student who donates $1 to various organizations every time she’s asked. It’s the news reporter who works a second job yet “adopts” a 10-year-old boy for Christmas who only requests Star Wars figurines from Santa. It’s those of us who maybe live paycheck to paycheck, with little “extra” money each week, eating Ramen noodles far too regularly, who would give anything to ensure no child wakes up Dec. 25 with nothing under his tree.
We’re the ones who make sure a mom can get her sons haircuts or who ensure family-less senior citizens are still remembered during the holidays or who help dish out food to those who may have no home, let alone a place to cook a Thanksgiving turkey.
And hopefully you’re one of that “we.” You would step up if need be, if you saw poverty prevailing and Christmas slipping toward non-existant for someone in your town. If you came across a man who couldn’t buy his children the red wagon they wanted from Kris Kringle because the mortgage was due. If you heard a family would have nothing if not for the donations given to the local Goodwill.
It’s this Christmas feeling of giving, of hope, of love that we need to carry all year. It’s easy to remember those less fortunate when the holidays approach, but what about in May when you’re planning a beach vacation yet a young boy down the street won’t get to celebrate his birthday?
I, for one, must become more diligent in this and – I apologize for saying this already – I’m sure you have to, also. It’s so simple to go about our lives 11 months of the year and then when charities come begging because the countdown to Christmas has begun, we feel the need to do our part. Us 20somethings will soon become the 30somethings, then the 40somethings, and so on. Imagine how much good we can do in our own communities over time if we start the giving back now, while we’re young and barely getting by?
I walked into the Mooresville Christian Mission today just to take a few photos for the newspaper. I departed with more than a desire to give back, but an absolute need to do so. Me, a 24-year-old who sometimes borders broke and penniless for days at a time, wishes she could’ve “adopted” 50 kids this Christmas, but whose wallet will only allow her to make a difference in a little boy named Dylan’s life this holiday.
I’m doing my part – and I promise here and now to keep to it throughout the year – and I hope you are, too.
Filed under: I could use some help here, Just whatever, Perhaps I am a bit strange
As I slowly approach the two-year mark with my current boyfriend, it’s tough not to think about this same point in previous relationships.
I don’t remember being unhappy or restless, and I’m not right now either. But at this exact moment with my two previous long-term boyfriends, the relationships were already on the downward slide.
I have what I like to call “the three year curse.” Near that particular anniversary, something triggers and my need to escape becomes dire. The +/- six months surrounding year number three cause immense anxiety on my part and fleeing remains the only option.
My high school boyfriend? I’d say it was at the 2.5 year mark where I called it quits, yet we stayed fairly attached for the few months that followed. However, approximately two months before that poignant anniversary, I bid him adieu and that relationship was officially over.
My college boyfriend? We met during my fall semester sophomore year and stayed together one month longer than the three-year point. He and I even moved 500 miles together to the great state of North Carolina where, less than a year later, I broke it off – though I suppose it was somewhat mutual, but that’s another story for another time or never. He swiftly returned to Pennsylvania following “the divorce” and splitting of our belongings*.
Now here I sit, exceptionally happy with this man in my life, yet completely fearful that only a few months down the road I’ll start cultivating problems in my head and trying to make my departure. And damn it, I don’t want this to end! So I’m attempting to recognize the problem – if it is one – now and ensure that he’s fully aware of “the curse” in the hopes that we can tackle and overcome it together. Because seriously, if this boy makes it to the four-year mark, I’m counting it as a miracle and forcing him to marry me**.
Am I the only one who has this issue when it comes to relationships? I mean, clearly I’ve heard of men who can’t commit for more than a few months, but three years seems like an odd point to leave it all behind. My mother once said that I “chase butterflies,” and once a relationship hits the comfortable point and the guy no longer makes me feel like I’m consistently floating on Cloud 9, I feel the need to find someone new who can. I’m not entirely sure I believe that theory, despite it’s plausibility***.
What do you think? What exactly, if anything, can break the curse I seem to have? Am I just turning a coincidence into something bigger than it truly is? Or is it actually possible my mom’s right in her speculations?
* I still wish I got the red steak knives that would perfectly match my kitchen. But meh, I got the Wii, the washer and the dryer. You win some, you lose some.
** Well, not “forcing.” I guess you can say I’m somewhat apprehensive about becoming engaged before hitting four years for fear that “the curse” will prevail. =/
*** That’s a word, right?
Filed under: Aunt MinD
As I drove to Pennsylvania on Nov. 12, my yellow Cavalier simply couldn’t get me to Scranton fast enough to meet my nephew. Keeping the car at a consistent 75 mph, my typically-nine hour drive turned into almost 11 due to two car crashes I encountered. It was almost 11 p.m. when I finally arrived at my childhood home and, for the very first time, saw my brother’s son.
He was in his bouncer, happily asleep, with my brother and his girlfriend’s dog, Abby, standing guard in front. Without even attempting to unload my car of suitcases, I plopped down next to Jaidyn and watched as he soundly slept. Sophie was curious and sniffed around the baby. I feared she’d think him a toy and attempt to play, but my assumptions were wrong and she went about her business of rough-housing with Abby.
It wasn’t until an hour later that I pushed my slight nervousness aside and held my nephew*. I don’t think I went more than a couple hours at a time without holding him ’til I departed early Sunday afternoon. Having him nestled in my arms was a feeling like no other. Complete comfort, yet protection. A warmth (and not just because of a smelly diaper) and love entirely unique. Seeing his tiny hand curl around my finger or watching a slight smile come across his face brought me a joy like nothing I’ve ever felt.
And though it’ll be January (I assume) before I see that little guy again - with a face that will no doubt change a million times over the next couple months – I’m already ready to pack up my car and drive north.
Here are a few pictures from the weekend** that I just had to share with everyone. Clearly I’m a very proud Aunt Mindy.
Holding Jaidyn for the first time! (Cut me some slack on how awful I look. I did just finish an 11-hour drive.)
I liked the little bizarre faces he'd make.
Jaidyn and his Great-Grandma! (That's my grandma, my mom's mom.)
Seriously, I wouldn't put him down. (Gah, no makeup. Look away. Look away!)
He's too cute. For real.
Such a grumpy, confused face. My favorite picture!
Cutest baby ever. That's right. I said it.
* I dropped a baby once, so I tend to hesitate.
** I seriously snapped about 200 of the kids, so I just chose a handful of my favorites.
Filed under: A book/movie review (of sorts), I cannot believe I wrote about Twilight, I clearly have nothing better to say
On Thursday, at midnight, I did it. I stood in line with hundreds – seven theaters worth, so that’s my assumption – of teenage girls, book-loving adults, whipped boyfriends and a few others to see New Moon.
And I loved it! Maybe it’s because I started the evening with some SoCo and Yuengling, but the book portrayal was pretty close and Taylor Lautner truly embodied the character of Jacob Black to a tee … and we remember how I feel about Jake, right?
Like many others who saw the first saga film, Twilight, my expectations for #2 were rather low. But with a new director on board – and previews that seemed a bit more promising – my anticipation got the best of me and I bought my ticket a few days in advance. And to say I was pleasantly surprised with the outcome on the screen would certainly be an understatement. Though when you’re expecting subpar, I suppose it’s rather simple to go above and beyond.
Although there were some obvious flaws - including the rather-forced Volturi/Italy scenes, (though it was that way in the book as well, but moreso in the movie) and the slight differences between the book and film (I get it, time constraints, but the movie should always stay as close as possibly to the book context) - I think New Moon was summed up pretty well on the big screen.
….. My rating? 3.7/5 …..
With that said, seeing this movie at midnight (despite the liquid courage) made me more certain than ever that I loathe teenage girls. I’m clearly beyond that point in my life – thank God! – and highly annoyed by masses of them surrounding me at once. I easily could have done without the Ooooing and Ahhhing whenever anything remotely male or sexual occurred. But I knew what I was getting myself into and I’m still fairly glad I took the first opportunity possible to see the latest Twilight installment.
I’ll probably go see Eclipse at midnight, too. I’m super awesome like that. Now, how many months do we have left…? June 30, 2010 cannot come soon enough. I’m already jonesing a Jacob-fix!
P.S. I’ve always been this big of a dork. This is just more proof of that.
I love this tee-shirt!
Filed under: Aunt MinD
One week ago today, at 5:08 p.m., an adorable little boy was born in Scranton, Pa. that I am more than proud to call my nephew.
First picture!
At 8 lbs., 3 oz. and 21 inches long, Jaidyn Christopher was welcomed into the world by my brother and his girlfriend. And come tomorrow, after a nine-hour drive to Scranton, I’ll finally get to meet the little guy who made me an aunt!
Expect plenty of pictures once I return (on Sunday, so early next week they’ll be posted) because I couldn’t be more excited to have this baby boy in my life. Yay, I’m an aunt! …Aunt Mindy. It has a nice ring to it, wouldn’t you say?
He’s only one week old and yet I have so many hopes for his life. Sure, there’s the general ones – love, happiness, strength, courage, etc. But I truly hope that 18 years from now when he embarks upon the world on his own there will be doors open to him that many of us can’t even imagine right now. My dream is that he takes advantage of every opportunity before him no matter how big or how small. That he grows up to be an amazing man some day who can do anything he wants despite any obstacles that could stand in his way. I want so much for Jaidyn and he’s barely seven days old…
I also look at my nephew and cross my fingers that these two parents he’s been blessed with are everything he deserves. Too many kids are shortchanged in life these days with one, or sadly both, parents who simply don’t care and aren’t living up to their obligations as parents. While I of course hope my brother’s girlfriend is an amazing mother, I more so want my brother to be the kind of father I genuinely wish he and I had. This little guy deserves that and I sincerely pray that my 22-year-old brother can fulfill every hope I hold for him as a dad. I believe he can. I really do. And as his one and only big sister – and Jaidyn’s aunt and godmother – I’ll make sure to keep my brother on that path toward being an outstanding father.
Less than 24 hours from now, I’ll be on the highway, headed north to meet a baby boy who won’t have any clue who I am, and that doesn’t bother me in the least bit. To have him in my arms for just one moment, one brief second, will seriously make me the happiest girl in the entire world tomorrow. I absolutely cannot wait!
