A while ago, I watched a film called “Zimbabwe’s Forgotten Children“. What got to me the most was the fact that just 25 cents could make such a profound difference in a child’s life. The difference between being able to attend school or not. I think of this every time I put a quarter in my shopping cart, hand over a quarter to my kids for the gum machine or accidentally vacuum one up while cleaning my house.
It is my hope and desire, once the children that I am raising now, (Currently 1 biological son and 4 foster sons . . . 1 biological son and 2 foster sons have already left the nest . . . yes, 8 boys!) are all independent young men, to return to Zimbabwe where I was born, and to personally care for children there in whatever capacity God sees fit.
In the mean time, I want to do my best to help support, in particular, 8 children that I know personally in Zimbabwe. They are not orphans, nor are they utterly destitute by Zimbabwean standards, (Sitting here in my safe, spacious, albeit rented home, this is an extremely perspective statement) but I know them. I know their parents and in some respect I owe their parents for the luxury of my upbringing. They are good, hard working people who despite extreme hardship are doing right by their children.
I am confident that I can ensure that every last penny raised for their children, will go to benefit them. Here’s hoping that this is the start of something much bigger than misplaced change.