|synaptic disunion|

Friday, May 11, 2007

a giving spirit...

I remember when he was born. I was ten or eleven. It was his birth that made me an uncle for the first time, and made me realize that I was supposed to be growing up.. that I was no longer the youngest person in this broad family.

As he grew, he was a bit of a terror. I remember as a kid he once stole one of the crystals off the chandelier in my parents bedroom right before he and his mother (my sister) left for home. I remember wondering if he was going to be a kleptomaniac when he grew up. Nothing was further from the truth.

When he got older, he was once chastised for not having a coat on a cold night when he showed up to some family function somewhere. Where was his one coat? He had given it away to someone on the street who needed it more than he did. He has become a better man than many in his own generation. He's a good kid, and he's just returned from his second trip to Africa. He spent three months working in an orphanage, living lean, and healping others. During this trip, he gave away his cell phone at a border crossing, in order to get a visa for the neighboring country, because he had no American money at the time. Just gave it away. He said it seemed like they might need it more than him anyway. My inclination is that he thought it more important that he get into the country, than that he have cell phone. He's home now though, having just gotten over Malaria, which he'll carry with him the rest of his life.

Some people wonder what's wrong with him. Why would he just give stuff away like that? Why doesn't he come home, go to college, get a good paying job and help people with his money? They worry about him, how he's living, what he's doing, if he's in danger. I don't. He's a good kid. He's got a spirit that's as precious as a diamond. He's doing what his heart loves, and that's more important than anything in the world.

: toadman : at Friday, May 11, 2007 |