I Can’t Talk Right Now
I should have been more specific and I should have considered the question from their point of view. In hindsight, it’s really funny how quirky life is sometimes.We have just completed a really cool building project in Aguas Negra, Dominican Republic. It was with a Christmas Hero Holiday group, and together with the help of some amazing local workers, a new house and property wall was built for a family that was desperate for some help. Their house was falling apart, they were continually flooded with sewage and mud, and they were always getting sick. A few weeks before the project, when we stood there chatting with the kids at the house trying to determine the details of what the build was going to look like, I thought I was asking the right questions.”How many people live here?” “Are your parents alive?” “Do they live here?” Each question seemed so straightforward that I didn’t think much of it. Their dad was a construction worker (meaning he makes about $10 a day when there is work) and they said their mom didn’t live there.”So he is a single dad?””Yes,” they answered.”How many children live here?””Three,” they answered.”So there are four family members in this house?””Yes.”It seemed so simple.
They were a really great family to work with. Each day the team showed up at their house they eagerly welcomed them and their gratitude shone through in everything they did. It only took five workdays to get the house and wall done. The team from Canada was amazing and they loved every minute of it.But the big surprise and laugh was on me the day of the house dedication ceremony.I had told everyone that there were four people living in the house and that he was a single dad, because according to my information, that was accurate. I hadn’t been there throughout the week and was only able to join them on the day of the house dedication. So when we called the family forward, I was a little surprised to see the father and a woman, two daughters, two sons and a granddaughter in the mix. I guess I asked the wrong questions.When I asked how many family members lived there, the daughter that answered me only told me about her family members – not the ones that were not biological relatives. When I asked if the mother lived with them, I failed to ask if their father had a new wife/girlfriend and they naturally didn’t offer the information. When I asked if he was a single dad, I think they thought I was asking if he was their only dad.But the best part of the whole chaotic jumble was during the ceremony. The tiny house was crammed with about 50 people, all of them excited for the family’s new home and for the cake that was waiting to be eaten. As the mayor of the community gave a heartfelt thanks to the Hero Holiday group, kids and adults jostled and chattered and seemed to be hoping we would get to the good stuff soon. As he was talking, he turned to the family at the table and congratulated them on their new home. At that exact moment, the step-mom’s cell phone rang and she did what anyone would do in the middle of a house dedication where people are addressing you publicly – she answered it! However, it was what she said that made me burst out laughing. In rapid Spanish, she told the person on the other end of the phone, “I can’t talk right now because we are getting our new house!” and then she snapped the phone shut and nodded her head at the mayor, giving him the signal to continue his speech!As we were about to cut the cake and start the real party, the father of the family, a quiet, serious looking man who was clearly used to many years of physical labour, raised his hand. In an emotional voice, he said something that made everything worth it all over again. “Thank you to our new friends from Canada for our new home. I never dreamed we could ever live like this.”His name is Gapito, and no matter what the details of his family life are that I managed to misconstrue, I hope that 2011 is a year of amazing things for all of them. They deserve it. Happy New Year, Gapito.LiveDifferent (formerly Absolute)’s Hero Holiday program happens throughout the year in Dominican Republic, Mexico, Thailand and Haiti. You can join us! Check out www.livedifferent.com. This is how hope begins!
Love is a word we use so often in the English language that we sometimes forget the power and force behind what it means to truly love. I love chocolate, but I also love my husband. I love sunshine but I also love my family. In our current culture, people fall in and out of love with their crushes, their favourite foods, their favourite bands, and their spouses. Love is used to describe everything from nail polish colours to sex. What does it really look like?I remember hearing someone say that ‘love is a commitment and choice’. That’s true – it is both of those. It’s a choice because no one can make us love someone or something; it has to come from within us. Love is also a commitment because, in its truest sense, it is ultimately about relationships – and we all know what kind of commitment relationships require. But I am beginning to think that sometimes, when we choose to love, we are doing it for something greater than even commitment or choice. I think sometimes we love for the sheer beauty of what that love is capable of accomplishing.
We haven’t yet been able to figure out her name, but because it is Christmas, I would like to call her “Mary” in honour of a Jewish woman who lived long ago and who loved so much that it changed the course of history. “Mary” first met Cole last week when he was delivering Christmas gifts to an orphanage we had recently discovered in Port-au-Prince. There are 110 children there, living in a very large house. They are the poorest of the poor: they sleep on mats on the floor, their clothing is threadbare and their situation is deplorable. In the short amount of time they had, Cole and Frantzo brought them gift bags and supplies. As they were preparing to leave, they took a quick tour around the cramped property, assessing what the needs were. When they got to the back of the house, they found a cinderblock shack with a tin roof. It was five feet by five feet. Beside the shack was “Mary” and a small boy taking a shower. As they smiled shyly at Frantzo and Cole from behind the wall, there was something evidently different with the little boy, but they couldn’t discern what it was.
The head of the orphanage, David, came out and stood beside them and introduced them to Mary and the boy with her. Mary is probably 70 years old. She has tired, kind eyes, weary and weathered hands, and as they talked she held a protective arm around the young boy. The boy is not her biological grandson. He was a total stranger when she first found him. But when she found him she knew she loved him, and from that moment forward, that love became something beautiful and pure. In fact, it became what helped that little boy to survive – because Mary found him in the garbage dump. He had been abandoned there as a newborn baby, and he had most likely sustained injuries and deprivations that have led to him being mentally challenged for the rest of his life. He would have died there were it not for Mary’s kindness, but now he has a future. To you and me it may not look like much, but when you are loved and you are safe, your future is beautiful and bright.Mary, her ‘grandson’, the 110 children in the home, and the other 50 children in Kay Papa Nou are all enjoying the gifts that we brought them this past weekend in Port-au-Prince. They were gifts that were made possible because of the generosity of our friends and philanthropists in LiveDifferent (formerly Absolute). Thank you. Your love helped us spread the love this Christmas, and that love is a beautiful thing.LiveDifferent (formerly Absolute) is returning to Haiti in May for another Hero Holiday and we will be working to help many people like Mary. You can join us! Check out 
My mom used to tell me that I can always choose my friends, but I can’t choose my family. Usually this was in response to my complaint about something said ‘family’ did, but nevertheless, it is a very true statement. There is something about the love of a family that is more about commitment than any kind of biological bond. To be a part of a family is really about knowing where you belong, because once you know that, the rest is the easy stuff.Two weeks ago we were driving up the Baja coast on our way to the San Diego airport. As we were driving, we passed a forlorn looking orphanage property and Dawn said, “I wonder whatever happened to Isabel?” Oddly enough, that question started a random, yet serendipitous, chain of events that led to a family being reunited and held together.As fate would have it, the very next day, Dawn received a Facebook message from Isabel, whom she hadn’t heard from in a long time. She was telling her she was in San Diego and would like to see her. On their trip the following week, Andrew and Dawn picked Isabel up in San Diego and brought her to Vicente Guerrero, near our Hero Holiday base, where they first met.I have never met Isabel personally, but according to what Andrew has told me about her, I think that in Isabel’s world, the concept of family has meant many different things at different points in her life. When they first met, she was one of four kids in her family that were living in an orphanage in Vicente Guerrero, Baja California. Isabel was 15, Maria was 10, Veronica was 8 and Gumaro was 5. However, they weren’t all in the same orphanage – they were scattered around in different facilities, never knowing what it was like to grow up together.Recently, Isabel showed Maria a picture of their father – it was the first photo she had ever seen of him. He is a total mystery to them. From the outside, he may just seem like another face, but to them he is a link to their history, however brief and turmoiled it might be. The four children all share the same father, but they were only part of the picture: there were 14 in their family in total, spread across Mexico and the United States. Most of their family is unaware of how many siblings they actually have or where they even are.
Since I have heard about Isabel’s story, I have thought a lot about her mom. I don’t know what ever drove Margerite Rose to become the kind of mother that she is: addicted to drugs for many years, giving birth 14 times in 19 years and scattering her children along the way. What can make a mother turn on her own child? What kind of self hatred and pain can drive you to allowing your children to be taken away and knowing their own depths of pain and abandonment as a result? Sadly, their family’s story has become the text book story of cycles of abuse and abandonment, with many of her children following in her tormented footsteps. But Isabel is different. Something inside of her told her that the cycle ended with her, and since that day, she has never looked back.At 15, Isabel ran away from the orphanage, in the hopes of finding a better life. That hope was quickly crushed when she was promptly arrested and transported to another orphanage in Ensenada. After a brief time in that orphanage, she was transported north to Tijuana. Where she found herself made the other places look like heaven: there were 50 girls and they all had to sleep on the floor, shower at the same time and even use the same hair brush and deodorant. But hope did come in an unexpected way: the authorities were made aware that Isabel had actually been born in Vancouver, Washington and she was deported back to the US. It was the best thing that could have happened to her.Because she was orphaned, Isabel was absorbed into the American foster care system and was bounced around between four different families. Isabel ended up in San Diego through the foster care system, and tried to make a life for herself. It was here that she truly began to experience the kindness of others who cared about her. A family took her in, made her feel like she was part of a family for the first time, and surrounded her with love. That love gave her the courage to finish her education. She was the first member of her family to graduate with a high school diploma.The journey to wholeness has been difficult for Isabel. She wavered between returning to Mexico to try to collect her family or staying in the US. After graduation, she struggled to be able to get her own apartment and secure a job. But she did it. Today, Isabel works in administration for the San Diego County Foster Care. This past week when Andrew and Dawn saw her again, it was in Mexico, in the same community where they first met. Only this time they helped her find her siblings. The reunion was sweet and they all cherished their time. Isabel’s life has become a beacon of hope for her younger siblings, and they are inspired to begin to dream about what they can become as well. Now they are no longer isolated and alone – they can work together to build a future that is free from the pain they have known in the past.I have never known what it is like to know the pain of rejection that each of those 14 children have inevitably felt. I have never known what it is to have to fight for every single thing that I know I want or even need. I have never known isolation such as they have. But I have known the power of hope. I see it every day in what we do in LiveDifferent (formerly Absolute). This is how hope begins, one life at a time. Before you know it, we might just all be willing to believe that we were meant for so much more and start to do something about it.LiveDifferent (formerly Absolute)’s Hero Holiday program has many different opportunities for you to join us in Mexico. You can be a part of a story like this and know the power of purpose and hope! Check out 
Erika Eason has been a part of the LiveDifferent (formerly Absolute) picture for a long time. We first met her on one of our first Hero Holidays in Dominican Republic and it was there we made a connection that has carried past an experience and into an entire transformation.
concept of surfing seems to be surrounded in all that we pursue in life: looking for the best wave that will carry us through safely until it pops us out on the other side with only great memories and friends surrounding us and cheering us on. However, life is not always like that. I don’t actually think it ever is, to be honest. And until I met Carlos and his family, I thought that the possibility of surfing was something you needed a board and ocean waves to do. I was wrong: it could happen in a way that could be disastrous.Carlos’ real name is Hilario. He lives on the edge of Puerto Plata, Dominican Republic with his wife, Felicita and their four children (Jorkeli, Joskar, Jocairy, and Ruth). Carlos is a good man. He works long, hard hours, fighting to keep food on the table for his family and to keep his kids in school. He and Felicita only dream of the best possible future for their children. And since the day I met them, I only wanted the same thing for them. It sounds simple until you realize where they actually live.
Their community is called San Marcos. It sits on the edge of the city, connected by loose dirt roads that often wash out in the rain, with houses clustered around a river ravine at the base of the mountain. The trees are lush and the mosquitoes are plentiful, and yet it is the best they can do: here they own their own land and take quiet confidence in the fact that they are together. Carlos and Felicita’s house was tiny, with only two rooms. There was no running water or dependable electricity. As I stepped around to peak over the back of their house, I realized the full extent of the danger they lived in every day: their home was almost falling off the edge of the eroding ravine, threatened to surf down into the creek 15 feet below. It was held to the side of the hill with scraps of wood and other odd materials that they were able to collect to help them just a little bit longer. But how long before it was too long?
This past summer we were able to build a new house for Carlos and his family. It has a real cement floor, with enough foundation depth to keep his family’s precious new home secure. They are not going to be surfing down that ravine any time soon; they are going to be safe. If feels good to know that tonight, as I sleep with my little family and know that we are safe when it rains or storms, I know that Carlos and Felicita are also safe – thanks to so many amazing Canadians who joined with them this past summer and believed in the power of hope.This Christmas, we are going to be delivering Christmas Hampers to Carlos and Felicita and many other families like them. The gifts will be filled with food, children’s gifts and needed household items. We need your help! Check out 
I know Barbie gets a bad rap. I know she can be seen as a symbol of all that is wrong with our perceptions of how women should look and act. Like the multi-billion toy industry that North Americans are enslaved to, she is often over-priced and kind of ridiculous. However, this week, I saw Barbie do something I never knew she could do. Barbie brought hope to a little neighbourhood in the middle of the outback of Baja California, Mexico. Barbie reached out and touched a young girl’s life, and we got to be a part of it all.Micaela moved to Baja California from Oaxaca (wuh-hawk-ah) in southern mainland Mexico with her mom when she was two years old. Forced to move to find work and survive, there were many years full of good memories but persevering endurance as she grew up. She gave birth to Octavio when she was 15 and Jessica when she was 18; sometimes life leaves us with few options and she was never given the option of family planning. Micaela sells items and handicrafts in the market in town. She is a good mother and a faithful daughter. Her husband had been in America working for four years. He missed most of his children’s early years, and last November, shortly after arriving back home, he left Micaela and the children and moved across town and in with another woman. Perhaps he couldn’t handle the uncertainty of what Micaela had no option of escaping: the uncertainty of how long Jessica will be around.
Jessica began to get sick a year and a half ago, when she was 5. A tumour began to grow on the side of her face, and tests confirmed it was cancerous. Micaela had no choice: she had to take Jessica two hours up the coast to the hospital. When she arrived there, without extra clothes, blankets or money, she was told that she would need to put Jessica in treatments immediately and it would take a month. She didn’t even have enough money to take a bus home. Our LiveDifferent (formerly Absolute) staff and students sent up emergency supplies and money and wanted her to know how much her and her family were loved and valued.After two rounds of chemotherapy, Jessica is home with her mom and brother. School has been hard, as she has missed so much this year and she is easily tired and can’t walk very far. Though there are uncertainties as to her future, Micaela and Octavio work hard to make their home one of love and comfort for Jessica. And that is where we came in.Like every parent, Micaela would like to give her kids the moon, but unlike many of the homes we all grew up in, there is no money after the necessities – and sometimes even those can’t be met. Our Leadership students were at her house, helping to build an extra room to give Jessica some space. There was nothing to put in that room. But Jessica had a dream of what she would like to see: a pink doll house full of Barbie’s.
Shelby was one of our Hero Holiday interns in Mexico this past summer. Moved by Jessica’s story, she sent money to help us and to remind them that they were loved. And this week we watched a dream come true as we pulled up to their house and made Jessica close her eyes as we set out a little girl’s fantasy: a huge pink Barbie house and camping van, tonnes of Barbie’s to complete the picture and a big pink quilt that said “Princess”. All of us counted to three in Spanish and watched as tears ran down her face as she tried to comprehend what she saw there.For me, it was hard to decide what the best part of the morning was: seeing Jessica holding her Barbie’s close, helping to break the pinata outside to celebrate, or watching Shane, one of our Leadership students, work in a sea of pink as he tried desperately to figure out how to put the dollhouse together!Will a dollhouse cure Jessica? No. Can Barbie change a life? Perhaps…when she is combined with a little dose of hope and a big serving of love.To find out more about how to join us in Mexico for our Hero Holidays, check out 
