Lemming Moment #156

As another year comes to a close, most people find themselves in a state of reflection. What happened this year? Who did I meet? What did I do? How did I change? Am I any worse for the wear? This, of course, also leads to a a subsequent state of blind optimism. Next year is going to be different. Next year I'm going to work out more. Next year I'm going to eat healthier. Next year I'm going to do all the things I always said I would do last year but never did. Next year I'm going to make up for last year. All these questions and suppositions leave me wondering why I spent so much time thinking about me.

Why can't next year's questions be more about how I can affect change in someone else's life? How can I let the people in my life know how much they mean to me? How can I help Rhode Island's unemployed find work? In essence, how can I help? There are times when, yes, I'll own up to being selfish, but why does that have to be all the time?

I was reading an article about a program the Sheriff's department of some town in Ohio or Oregon offers around the holidays. If you are pulled over for speeding, or some other minor infraction, you can either pay the ticket or you can buy toys and food for those less fortunate. Those choosing to partake in the program, an incredible 80% of those ticketed, simply drop off the products at the Sheriff's station and tabula rasa. You get out of the fine and you help someone feed their family, help their kids have christmas just like everyone else.

Here in Rhode Island, you could adopt a family for the holidays. You only know their first names, their ages, and if they're a boy or a girl. They each make a list, like every other child does in the month of December, and you can give them the Christmas they never would have had otherwise. When they go back to school in January, and all the other kids are talking about the amazing toys "Santa" brought them, they can chime in with their goodies, too. I was proud to learn my mother had taken part in this program. She gave the two little girls everything on their list (and then a few gift cards, too), and the single mother a few gifts along with a Stop & Shop gift card, so they could have Christmas Dinner.

There are certain things that sound absolutely ridiculous when you say them out loud. "I wanted the red Snuggie, not the blue one!" "Jimmy got a bigger set of Leggos than me." "How come you only got me two Coach purses when I said I wanted three??" For the money your family spent on the extra presents, they could have given someone meals for a week.

Knowing all this, learning about the different programs that are already in place, the next step is figuring out how to help those programs succeed.

Cheers to a new year.