What Did You Do Today?

Please pardon this personal note as I try to process the lesson my daughter is trying to teach me.

In our house, birthdays happen every other year.  I’m not exactly sure why, but it worked out while having two kids. The oldest, my 5-year-old, was just starting to get the gist of what that meant when she decided to blow it up.

Now some kids might pitch a fit, or throw a tantrum to try to get what they want. Neither tactic has a snowball’s chance in Hell of working in my house. But Ruthie came to us one day a few weeks ago and asked if she could have a party if it would help someone else.  Oh, and she loves spaghetti. (Five year-olds live in RandomLand) We were intrigued and listened to her idea.

A little background: Every year for the last two or three years, my wife and daughter have participated in a faith-based program called Operation Christmas Child.  The idea is to fill a shoebox up with personal toiletries, maybe a few fun things, a compact new testament bible and a short note letting them know that they are loved.  These boxes are shipped all over the world by missionaries and delivered to kids who may not have ever had anything of their own in their lives. My girls love doing it.

I’m sure that experience touched her because she keeps calling this idea Operation Food Child. She wanted to have a spaghetti dinner party where people could bring spaghetti to feed to other people.  Did I mention she loves spaghetti above all other meals? It wandered from there in a no-boundaries, 5-year-old sort of way, but we had the basic idea. We even told her that it would mean not getting presents, at all, because all the presents would be for the people she wanted to help. She nodded her assent.

My wife took over from there and did the organizing, invitations, explanations, planning and whatnot.  Ruthie, in true visionary style, kept tabs on the progress while she managed her other interests.  Not more than one day has gone by when the topic has not been addressed by her to us.

Tomorrow, we will meet in the fellowship hall of our church and host  roughly 40 people in a spaghetti ball put in motion by a 5  year-old who wanted a party and found a way to get it.  Spaghetti cake, pinatas and placemat crafts will comprise the activities for her guests.  We already have in hand enough spaghetti kits, the “gift” requested of those attending, to feed roughly 20-30 people.

Her mother has posted her thoughts here. This is the note that will accompany each spaghetti kit as it is delivered to the food kitchen:

This meal was provided by the ambition of a 5-year-old. She wanted to make sure everyone had food to eat so badly, she was willing to sacrifice her birthday gifts to make it happen. As you are nourished by this meal, know that you are loved, without judgment or expectation, by one little 5-year-old girl who paid for your meal with beads and barbies and other things she loves, but will never see. No matter who you are or where you’ve been, your dreams are still out there waiting for you. If one five year old can feed her favorite meal to 200 people by force of will, sacrifice and persistence, what can you do? P.S. She believes in you, too.

So I ask you, the same question I am asking myself, “What did you do today with all your gifts, resources, education, contacts, talent and will that stands up to what one crafty five year-old who wanted a birthday party could do with hers?”  Me? I know I just got schooled by a kid. As the gravity of the fruition of her will hits me, I am humbled as a man and grateful as a dad. Proud doesn’t even touch it.

Update: We held the party and were overwhelmed at the response. Many, many kind people joined us and helped surpass the original goal of collecting enough spaghetti kits to feed 100 people. We were barely able to fit everything in the car!

The Marquee

Yummy!

Friends, Fellow Crusaders and Party Animals. The brown paper bags are the spaghetti kits everyone put together.