By selling cookies.
Lots and lots of cookies.
Like I’ve said before, we have time on our hands because we ditched our Entertainment Budget. Turns out we have more fun when left to our own vices and with Uncle Benny out of the picture.
For instance, we hear about things like Unforgotten Project at church and instead of heading straight to lunch at a restaurant or zipping off to the movie theater, we go home and think. A lot. Haha. Sounds boring but what happens is this: my kids have quietness in which to ask questions. A lot of questions. So many questions.
And we have nothing distracting us from answering said questions. So it goes like this: Kids: why don’t we pay for these kids to go to school?
Us: Idk, why not?
Kids: Because we have no money.
Us: Ah! You’ve got to work to earn money! What can you do? Is there anything you know how to make!?
Us: YES!! And we can sell those cookies at an incredibly inflated mark up! And use the money to pay for your friends’ schooling. Shall we?
Kids: Yes we shall.
And so I send a text to six friends, asking if their kids want to help. Everyone brings an ingredient. And we get to the business of healing the world. One small corner at a time.
Those playmates bring cookies to their grandmas, who are doubled over with joy at the sight of their kids serving someone else. And they buy said cookies for outrageous prices.
It’s not about the cookies.
And then my mama friends see that they’re making a difference, so they bring said cookies to work! And more people get inspired. And my husband bring a sign up sheet to his macho work friends. And they’re on board. And in less than 24 hours, we have made two dozen cookies and raised $70 for our friends in Haiti. Dollars that will pay for education which means there’s an end in sight. This is not a funnel of aid. These are dollars that purchase freedom from need.
And that’s how we change the world, one boogery cookie at a time.
Small and silly? Not to my kids. And not to the kids in Haiti who get to go to school. And not to the moms of the kids in Haiti who for a year can worry a little less. And not to this mom, who watches my kids interacting with the world, and seeing, and noticing, and feeling, and responding. And changing.