In a way I am “re-gifting” this post since it originally appeared on another blog last year. The things I said last year still hold true today, so I’m sharing again. 🙂
What gift would I give a total stranger?
I actually consider this question, so appropriate for the Christmas season, almost daily. I established and run a foundation called Myles-A-Part. We provide financial and emotional support for families living with Autism. The “Myles” is my son, who was diagnosed with Autism at two years old. We’ve been living with this diagnosis for more than a decade, and I’ve been running the foundation for seven years. A unique set of sacrifices and rewards are part and parcel of this special community my family was grafted into involuntarily. Serving this community philanthropically exponentially increases those sacrifices and rewards because you find yourself not just managing your own, but also engaged in the challenges and rewards of others.
This diagnosis could have gotten the best of me. Watching your bright, engaged, delightful child “disappear” in so many ways – losing language, eye contact, social connection, emotional expression – proves difficult for most.
Difficult for me.
Anger, guilt, resentment, despair all tried to have their way with me, but my faith and my husband wouldn’t let me succumb to the dark bliss of depression. Eventually, little pinpricks of light penetrated that darkness and I could see my way to help my son; to help myself. And eventually, to help others.
I know most little girls don’t even know the word “philanthropy” much less care about it, but from the first time I understood the essence of philanthropy, it resonated with me at a cellular level, seeped into my understanding of what I wanted to do and be. The thought of making a difference, though, always overwhelmed when I saw large organizations helping thousands. I couldn’t do that. Living with Autism, though; negotiating its rough terrain, compelled me to figure out how I could do some good for somebody. It might not be curing cancer. It might not be a famous telethon, but it would be something.
I believe you can start doing good in your immediate domain. That space right around you which you can influence and shape and improve. The first year, we served just a few local families. We helped a few marriages struggling to hold on living in the autism pressure cooker. We awarded a few therapy grants and medical scholarships to children needing financial support. We helped a few single parent families at Christmas. These early steps taught me about what I have come to think of as my circumference of good.
In that small area right around you, recognize need. Then feel compassion so deeply it compels you to take action, even a tiny one. That action draws resources to meet the need. Before you know it, you’re engaged in this magnetic cycle, drawing more need, feeling more compassion, taking more action, drawing more resources. Until those needs, that compassion, those actions, those resources swell in that space right around you; pressing against the sides of your circle. Stretching that space to make room for more. And before you know it, you’ve helped more people than you did the week before, the month before, the year before. You have done more good than you imagined you could.
I see this all the time, but never as much as at Christmas. This season primes people’s hearts; ripens their compassion and propels them to seek opportunities to do good. I see it every year through the Holiday program my foundation sponsors for single parents raising kids with Autism.
Last year, a young mother fled an abusive relationship and moved to a new state with nothing but her two sons, one of whom was severely autistic. English being her second language only complicated the situation. I still carry the first conversation she and I had in my heart, tucked away for days when I want to give up, to give in, to settle for less than the clarion call in my heart to do good. Her family’s need pressed against the sides of my circle. I did what I could, and once others heard, so did they. By the end of this story, she found herself outfitted not only with the basic necessities, but also owning a car outright to take her son back and forth to therapy, which had proven difficult. Reading her thank you letter and meeting her boys, affected me profoundly. I’ll never forget getting back in the car with my husband after I gave her those car keys. I stared out the window, tears streaming down my face, stunned by the feelings burning in my chest. Such a good burn!
Even this year, we’ve seen the same cycle of good with dishwashers, dryers, iPads for therapy, basics like food and clothes. You name it. People need it, and anyone involved in assisting them stretches their own circumference of good.
There’s a secret that I whisper in any ear and scream from any rooftop every chance I get. The central question isn’t what gift would I give a stranger. The real question is what gift could a stranger give to me? I didn’t know that abused mother. Not personally, but her life affected me profoundly. Her need, the compassion I felt, the action I and others took, the resources it drew – that process did good for her, but it changed me!
Doing good for others transforms you. It’s not just that circle whose shape stretches until it’s almost unrecognizable. It’s you! Your shape changes. Your compassion deepens. Your empathy grows. Your passion burns for someone other than yourself. You are bigger than you ever imagined you could be. Impacting more people than you could ever have fathomed. Rippling through the lives of those around you who experience deep, real need.
And it’s addictive. Instead of feeling overwhelmed or depressed when I get a call from someone in deep need, I find myself excited. I can’t wait to see how those needs will be met. I have seen it happen. I believe it can happen, and I get to be a part of it. It is not an obstacle. It’s truly an opportunity. Not just for them.
But for me.
Question for you:Â What is your circumference of good?