Together, we can all make a difference, one life at a time
(published as a guest column on September 24, 2011
Copyright 2011 (all rights reserved)
in the Austin American-Statesman)
Paying tribute to his grandparents in a commentary published recently in the American-Statesman, Michael Morris described how they stepped in to help when he, at age 5, and his mother fled Morrisí abusive father.
As I pondered Morrisí misfortune, it occurred to me that he was lucky to have caring grandparents for protection. Sadly, there are countless children who donít have such a safety net.
As a childrenís court judge several years ago, I presided at hearings in abuse and neglect, juvenile delinquency, and foster care cases. I saw youngsters and parents who traveled along wrong paths and made unwise choices that caused them much misery. Among them were youths who were on the edge of an abyss, on the brink of destroying any chance for fruitful lives. They were children crying to someone ó anyone ó for the slightest guidance or direction. But there was no one around to offer it. Iíll never forget the faces of those desperate individuals with their sad stories.
As the sun shed the dayís first light on the city below, some poor children down there would wake up hungry. Their only meal of the day might come from eating scraps of food off the floor in unsanitary conditions unfit for even dogs. They would be forced to fend for themselves. Their parents, in a drunken stupor or on drugs, were barely able to take care of their own needs, much less their childrenís.
I imagined a youngster in some dwelling he called home being abused or sexually assaulted. This might be, in years to come, the force that would propel him into juvenile court, much like the youngsters who had appeared before me.
Through the years, Iíve come to believe that life is a gift we take for granted. We donít own life, no more than we own our children. It and they are only on loan to us from God. It should be treasured as something sacred.
Those of us whoíve succeeded in our careers pride ourselves in what others would perceive as our distinguished lives. When I find myself getting carried away with my own notion that Iíve done well, I remind myself that I was lucky to have had the opportunities my own circumstances in life had to offer.
The question we must ask is whether, given the conditions and lack of opportunities that many of our youths endure, would we, in the same dire circumstances, fare any better. None of us chooses the family we are born into. We have no more say in that accident of life than we do in choosing our eye color.
Yet, we stand ever so ready to criticize and even condemn those among us who havenít attained what we have, instead of reminding ourselves that in so many ways, life is pitifully unfair for not affording all of us an equal chance.
I still think back, wondering whether I made a difference in the lives of those children. When I have these doubts, I recall a story a friend told me when I shared my frustrations with him. A young couple was walking along a beach. They came across hundreds of starfish that had been swept ashore and were dying in the hot sun. The woman picked one of them up and threw it as far into the ocean.
ďThatís not going to make a difference,Ē the man said with a smirk on his face.
With hope in her eyes, the woman replied: ďIt will to that starfish.Ē
As in that story, I console myself with the hope that I may have made a difference in at least one life of someone who appeared before me. Iíll probably never know, but that thought alone gives me hope that any one of us can make a difference in the life of a child at risk.
Iíve vowed to try making that difference, but I do so knowing that one person canít do it alone. All of us, acting together, might accomplish a small part of that goal. I ask that you consider helping in this effort by volunteering to do your part in improving conditions in your community. But before you can do that, you mustóas I finally didóopen your eyes.