I started out in a reasonable manner, just one child, whose birthday happened to correspond to my own. Abdou Diouf from Senegal. Then another who happened to share the same birthday as my middle son, Ryan, Dieu Le Veut from the Democratic Republic of Congo - whose language was French, which is Ryan's university minor. Then three more children, with birthdays matching those of my other kids, Paul, David, and Andrew - Zouera from Niger, Allan Josue from Honduras, and Leandro who lives in Costa Rica.
At this point, my sister became involved in my new "enthusiasm" and we would cruise the World Vision website together looking for special faces who tugged at our hearts. There were, of course, too many to sponsor, but a number of them did make the cut - they either had birthdays on "significant" days or they spoke to us. Fervour overrode common sense. Between the two of us, we now sponsor twenty children. Two for each member of our families plus two for luck.
Why or how was each child chosen? The fact that they had shared birthdays or were born on special-to-our-family days were the initial reasons, but later it became more of a gut feeling that those particular eyes were asking for a chance to succeed, that they had some contribution to make to the world, or to their community at least. Sometimes, it was just the smile.
At first, I suffered from an "embarrassment of riches" regarding the number of kids that we were sponsoring. After the first few, I hesitated putting the newest pictures on the fridge. Although they approved initially, once they had "their" kids, my kids thought that we were doing our part and that enough was enough. I held on to my little secret for several months, adding one or two pictures every so often to see if anyone was paying attention.
As the numbers grew, so did the comments, not all of them flattering. Finally, in a burst of anger over why I wouldn't buy one of them yet another extravagantly-priced item, I plunked all of the missing pictures in their magnetic frames on the freezer door. It was an impressive sight. Ours, along with those of my sister's, plus our jointly-sponsored kids, filled the entire door. It was awash in a sea of orange frames with multi-coloured faces peering back at us. We were all stunned to see them en masse. My kids thought that I had lost it. My husband was supportive, but worried that there were more there than we could comfortably afford. He was probably right.
My life, however, has changed since their arrivals. When I feel financially stressed, I look at the faces on the fridge and get a warm glow, not necessarily from "do-good-ism," although there is certainly an element of that, but because I truly feel that I am spending my money wisely. It would be very difficult to pick faces from my "collection" to send back to the pool of need-a-sponsor kids, even though it would be economically beneficial to my own financial situation in these challenging times.
My way of looking at money has also changed. That fast-food supper is now food for a month for one of "my/our" kids. The costs of new ornaments/towels/shoes etc. are calculated against the "value" the money has in less fortunate countries around the world.
International disasters take on an immediacy that they haven't had before. Wars, drought, hurricanes, tsunamis, landslides, all have become more "real," even if they aren't in areas where the fridge kids live. The world has become a much smaller place. I watch the World Vision, Plan, S.O.S. Children's Villages infomercials with the hope of glimpsing life in the countries they inhabit. I come away with a renewed commitment to my sponsored children.
I hope that the "less than a dollar a day" contribution has benefited each of the ten boys and ten girls whose faces rest on the freezer door as much as they have enriched my life. The yearly cost of their upkeep is substantial, but the thought that twenty kids around the globe share in my extended family's good fortune to live and work in Canada is priceless.
