Stand

A friend of my is the executive director for an incredible non profit called Stand for Children.  For the last few years I have tried to come to their fundraising luncheon only to be out of town each time.

I was happy that this year I would be able to take a few hours away from work, and learn more about what Stand for Children does.

Boy did I.

As we sat and ate our lunch, a student spoke about the scholarship she received from Stand for Children, that gave her the college education she would have never been able to afford on her own.

After that we watched a video of the 3 high school students who had been awarded the Stand for Children college scholarships this year.

The first girl had overcome sexual abuse, neglect, homelessness, and just as she was about to fall through the cracks, dug her way back to be a straight A student, with a bright future in front of her.

I couldn't even look at my friend Cindy who was sitting right across from me, as she silently pulled out her travel pack of Kleenex.  Thankfully my lunch napkin was still in my lap and I could discretely mop my face up before the lights came back on.

Next up was a sweet faced boy who had an idyllic childhood until...his mother died of...cancer.

I have to say, the second his video began I had this feeling of dread, somehow I knew where his story was going.

This is probably a good time to mention that every single person at my table knew my story.  To say the energy at our side of the room changed in an instant is an understatement.

Now I really couldn't look at Cindy.  Not because I was afraid to see the tears streaming down her face, but because my vision was so blurred from mine.

And if Doug did have his arm around my chair, and if I had not been sitting in the front row, I would have run out of the room, as if that would make it all go away.

But I sat.  And I watched this boys story unfold.  I watched as he spoke about how he was able to comfort a friend who had recently suffered the shocking loss of a loved one.  How he was able to tell his friend that it does get better.  That you still have your life to live.  

And I saw an ending to my greatest fear that was different than I thought it would be.

It was really just the beginning.