For the week of May 21 - 27, 2003

Full hearts,
benevolent spirits

Commentary by JoELLEN COLLINS

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From the back seat of the young mother’s car came a muffled sound, something like a lick, smack, or slurp. She looked back through her rear-view mirror, afraid that perhaps her dogs had gotten into a bag of stuffed animals the children at her sons’ school were collecting for Iraqi children. She saw that the dogs were not chomping on small teddy bears. The sound continued, however, so she pulled over. Finally she found the culprit, a stuffed animal whose mission was to emulate happy eating sounds.

Later that day, when she drove over a speed bump, she heard a tiny voice coming from the same part of the car. This time it growled, "Hey! What’s that over there?" She had difficulty making out the rest, but did clearly hear "Hey, what are you looking at, two-eyes!" Again she pulled over and examined the contents of the big plastic bag. This time she found a large green one-eyed monster toy that speaks sassy things when its eye is rolled.

We laughed over this, as it emphasized the odd things some small Iraqi children will encounter in the next few months. Imagine the expression on the face of, say, a 7-year-old Iraqi girl who opens her package of gifts from the children of the Wood River Valley, Idaho, USA, and pulls out a very ugly green toy.

Most American children will have seen "Monsters, Inc.," the inspiration for this creature, but not the children of Baghdad.

The stuffed monster speaks not only in a foreign language, but also with a rude and hostile tone. I shudder to think that the first words that child might learn from America are "Yeah. Blame it on the little guy!"

Metaphorically, of course, Iraqi children’s eyes will surely be opened to many new events in the next few years, which may be a subject for another column. What I do feel worth noting at this time is that I have seen our young students bringing in dozens of toys with a still-characteristic American spirit of generosity and a desire to help others. The post-Iraqi war photos of American GIs handing out gifts is not unfamiliar. It is, I truly believe, a symbol of the basically good hearts I think my countrymen possess. I hope I see more images like that instead of some impressed upon my memory from other wars and other peoples, of pillaging and plunder in the wake of victory.

At The Community School this year, we have had many drives and collections. Each time the children were excited at the prospect. They have collected clothes for less fortunate children, food at Thanksgiving, warm coats when winter chilled and hundreds of toys to give to others at Christmas. All of the efforts were met with an outpouring of enthusiasm.

Then, this winter they embarked upon collecting pennies for leukemia and, with the Brownies, the Make A Wish program. In February we were fortunate to have Greg Mortenson, director of the Central Asia Institute, show slides of the schools his organization has constructed in the remote mountains of Pakistan and Afghanistan. The children were aghast at the stories he told of boys and, most especially, girls who had never before had the privilege of a classroom, of books, even of pencils. Many of our kids wanted to send lots of money or have their parents write checks to help the village children so far away, but Mortenson urged instead the collection of pennies. Each one, he said, would buy a pencil. For weeks I saw our students drop pennies into the receptacles we had provided. When I took the jars to the bank we had collected 4,500 pennies. The kids were thrilled and the lesson impacted because each penny translated into something concrete and prized.

All of this brings to mind, naturally, the reaction I have when I am asked yet once again to contribute to some local cause, charity or cultural event. Instead of welcoming the opportunity to help, I usually groan inwardly, find a way to say "No," or offer something other than monetary aid, and slink home feeling really guilty. Part of this behavior, I know, is because I have a limited income and because this valley proliferates with good causes, all deserving of my support in some way. I have to draw the line. Nonetheless, I still feel petty and cheap when I say "No." I keep telling myself that if I had more money, I would share it more eagerly, but so far life hasn’t given me the chance to live up to that expectation.

Several years back someone gave a huge donation to our school to complete a building project. When I thanked him for it, he told me that it wasn’t difficult because he had been gifted with plenty of money. Nonetheless, I told him, there are multi-millionaires who would never give in that manner, but he did. He chose to enrich our lives by his generosity. I would hope I would do the same.

I always learn from the children who surround me every day. When I see pencils being purchased for pennies by children thrilled to share, they remind me that I should nurture the child-like joy of giving in my crusty old self.

 

The Idaho Mountain Express is distributed free to residents and guests throughout the Sun Valley, Idaho resort area community. Subscribers to the Idaho Mountain Express will read these stories and others in this week's issue.