No hands are too small

Usually during the holidays we treat ourselves to a McDonalds breakfast.

It’s our little family tradition.

A combination of pancakes, sausage McMuffins and hash browns with copious amounts of unhealthy fat and sugar. My fav is the McDonald’s coffee. It’s amongst my favs. Far better, in my opinion, than Starbucks or Caffè Nero. Love it and love it when we all sit around the table, say grace together and then dive in. Breakfast usually has that silence when everyone is chewing away and there are no words but just the joy of eating. No “can you eat up your vegetables”, negotiating how many mouthfuls left, or procrastinating through toilet visits, refilling waters and so on. You get the picture. It’s a guilty pleasure. We know that there are better alternatives. But it’s our little tradition.

This holidays we were avoiding mentioning this little tradition as we have no money.

These last few weeks have been very testing. Car servicing and a decision to go for a holiday (with hardly any money) rather than wait for something to turn up.

This morning Caleb meandered in and cuddled up in bed and then reminded us that we haven’t done our usual thing. There it was. The mention of something that we were hoping to avoid. Eek.

We had to turn and explain that this time we may need to forgo our usual pleasures. That we are struggling right now. We just cannot do it. We don’t have enough. He nodded. Said nothing and we... we counted our blessings that there were no complaints or battles. He then leaves the room.

It’s tough knowing that we can’t always provide for our family especially the little things that are seemingly meaningless and even a luxury but have helped us build up our memories as a family. It’s not a big thing. We can do without it and we are no way the poorer for missing out on this silly and indeed, unhealthy, tradition.

Moments later he comes back and says I would like to pay for us to have our family tradition and treat. He had £25 in his hand.

Angie turned to me with tears in her eyes that quietly acknowledge that in one gesture of a 12 year old boy reminds us that no hands are too small to help and provide for one another. And that silly family traditions are important too. They help build us up ready for tomorrow’s challenges. Together.

Thank you son.

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Kosovo #4: after a long day...

Kosovo #2: at the airport

Early start. Continual checking of documents. Missed breakfasts. Traffic. Farewells. Must be the day of departure.

Kosovo #1: The day before

In 1998, I was a year out of graduating.

I had just secured my first 'real' job as a fundraiser in a small to medium charity that worked in Eastern Europe and China. I was recruited to phone up companies and ask for surplus stock to include in shipments heading out to around 7 countries on the other side of Europe that the charity supported.

Just a few months in. We had news of the mass exodus from Kosovo into the neighbouring countries. The scenes in TV were of bombing, buildings on fire and lines & lines of people walking.

The small charity that I was working for was quick to respond. Particularly in what were termed as "unstructured" settlements.

I recall calling many groups for help and receiving a lot of support from pharmaceuticals, clothing companies and food.

The numbers of people being displaced were estimated well over a million at 1.5m into surrounding countries.

I watched the figures rise on the UNHCR website daily. I desperately made calls and sent faxes every day during this time. Some calls were more fruitful than others.

Tomorrow, eighteen years later, I'm travelling to country that I followed so closely for the first time. I'm meeting people who were attacked, lost family, friends and their homes... and were then ignored. I'm told that we will meet people with disabilities, those in Roma settlements and others on the wrong side of the 25% that do have jobs.

A lot has happened in eighteen years. The region is now a country. People are trying to pick up the pieces. As for me: had several more jobs, got married, had children.

A lot has changed.

Tomorrow I travel there, 18 years later, and I travel with my son, Caleb. Updates to come.

From Caleb

Just come in and found this on my bed from Caleb. Very thoughtful. :)

End of the season

Well done Caleb. Made it to the end of the season.

A proud parent moment!

   

Playing in the park with Joshie and Caleb

With his papa

White Hart Lane, The Godfather and an awesome afternoon out...

Caleb's operation photos

Caleb's Operation

It's the morning of Caleb's operation on his thumb.

It's just past 6 and having a quiet moment before dropping children around town and then to the hospital.