The silver lining

The widely accepted (grim) reality according to Un.org and refugeesinternational.org is:

• women have not reached equality with men in any country, developed or developing.
• 80% of the worlds refugees are women and children.
• 70% of impoverished people are women.

The exciting truth is this – we have the power, resources and (I hope) the will to change it.

• Women control around 20 trillion dollars in spending globally.
• As a market, women have more clout than India and China combined

What this means to me is that if we collectively donate 0.1% of the money we wield we have a staggering 20 Billion dollars to help our struggling sisters.

That is an awful lot of zeros $20 000 000 000!

The remaining 99.9% of our money can have a positive impact too, if start to vote with our feet and demand more of the companies vying for a piece of our 20 trillion dollar pie. I’m thinking loans to female agricultural communities, scholarship funds & assurances of fair dealings with disadvantaged peoples. For a start.

Sources un.org, womensenterprise.ca, refugeesinternational.org, suitcaseentrepeneur.com

The decision to found a NFP

I sat in front of the news with tears streaming down my face. I don’t watch the news often. Network News, especially, leaves me either angry or sad. So, I avoid it. I’am no glutton for punishment. (Though my husband would disagree with me there.)

I was meant to see that particular broadcast. There was something in the mannerisms of the Somalian baby. I recognised them. I see those very expressions in my own infant when he is desperate for a feed. When the breast finally brushes his lips he is relief embodied. This frail baby, when offered barely dribble of water, radiated the same perfect peace. Moments later his relief dissolved and he reclined in his mothers arms unsatisfied.

Perhaps it was the hormones. I mean my baby was only 4 months old at the time, I still had a lot of chemical help floating in my blood stream whispering ‘nurture the babies’. Regardless of the catalyst, those few moments of video broke my heart. Literally. My heart burst wide open and I saw my child in that baby. (I still think of that boy when I awake in the wee hours of the morning. I pray his hunger is satiated.) I knew his mothers misery. Tears flowed unimpeded and I looked over at my husband and in that moment he knew what was coming.

“I HAVE to do something…”
“I know.”

And then, it began. Nameless. Even writing this I still haven’t coined a name. But the mission, the vision, the calling are so familiar to me that I am sure they have been with me my whole life. No mother should have to watch her children wither and die en route to a refugee camp. No mother should have to decide which child to feed. And I believe, deep in my bones, that if we (the mothers who are fortunate enough to not face these decisions) could see a way to preventing such anguish, we would. Our children deserve a kind and gentle world. And they are all our children.

I discovered, when my heart broke open wide, that my life’s work is in making the connection between those who thrive and those struggling to survive. To find the way to amplify the work we already do and the compassion we already show. If we can extend our emotional neighbourhoods to those who really need our compassion, solidarity, voice and means we will change the world.

I believe…

I believe small acts of compassion will reach critical mass.
I believe everybody has it in them to change a life.
I believe if we knew how to alleviate suffering, we would.
I believe children deserve a gentle & kind world.
I believe in the inherent compassion of the human heart.
I believe in restoring giving, charity and compassion to the everyday.

I believe you give hope to the world.