Just got off a late night convo with my mom catching me up with her week. She’s been sitting on a panel that makes recommendations on which brilliant but needy students get scholarships.
Could tell she was emotionally drained hearing her speak. She tells me about how the stories are so heart breaking, that she had to keep excusing herself so she wouldn’t break down.
i know a lot of the emotional weight comes from her own past experiences. Things were terribly rough when we first moved back to Ghana. Very. She’s a strong woman. With a stronger God. I’m living proof.
Anyways, she hammered on the fact that all the stories were almost identical. These kids were exceptionally brilliant – she runs a school so she would know – being raised by mothers or grandmas or aunties, no father figures any where in the picture. In some cases, 20 Cedis to buy registration forms was a problem. C’mon man…
i have no idea where this post is going, other than taking the time to be grateful to God for what you have and recognise the moral obligation to look out for people who have less. Because, who will? Most of us are cushioned enough to never know, or know but never be directly affected.
There has to be more to our story than getting ourselves from point A to point B and maybe it’s the impact of helping as many people as we can get to point A.