Regional
A Kindness Campaign
In my friend Andrea's family reunion photo from a decade ago, her 14-year-old nephew Nick Hein cradles her baby son Brent. In all of the family reunion photos since then Nick is holding Brent, even in the picture from this past summer when Nick was 23-years-old, 6' 2" tall, and Brent was a too-big-to-be-held ten-year-old.
With their blonde hair and oval faces, the cousins look similar. They act alike, too, with their friendly, outgoing personalities. Nick's girlfriend will tell you that there's no competing with Brent. The two cousins have a special bond.
So in 2006, when Nick was deployed to Iraq, Andrea didn't know what to expect. She recalls the controversy surrounding GI's purchasing their body armor. She remembers that because Nick called his mother and asked, "Do you think I should buy some?"
No parent should have to answer that question.
Andrea found herself unable to sleep, worrying about her nephew and wondering if he slept in the protective gear he bought. She could too easily fast-forward and see her son in army fatigues as well. Her son and my youngest daughter are in the same grade at school. I could too easily feel what she was feeling.
But more than worrying, the hardest part for Andrea was not being able to help. She had to do something beyond sending care packages.
She told me, "The only thing I could think to do was to practice random acts of kindness and hope that the positive energy I created made a difference."
She's in good company. The idea of random acts of kindness has gained momentum in the last ten years. Movies such as Pay It Forward and Evan Almighty popularized it. Closer to home, the family of Rachel Scott, the first student killed in the Columbine High School shootings, began a foundation dedicated to random acts of kindness called Rachel's Challenge.
In Andrea's version of random acts of kindness, her family began with simple actions, such as smiling at a stranger or telling someone they were doing a good job. Then they began to make anonymous donations to people in need.
But eventually she felt like she needed to gather more troops in order to support the troops. She figured that the way to build momentum was to stop being anonymous and to reach out to personal connections.
In one example that meant that instead of donating Brent's outgrown clothes to a charity, she gave the clothes to someone she knew. Her gift opened a door so she could explain her kindness campaign.
While Andrea was uncomfortable admitting her selfless acts, people responded to her story with a desire to be a link in her chain of compassion. Friends prayed for Nick, donated to programs for soldiers, and performed their own random acts of kindness.
As she had hoped, dropping the cloak of anonymity paid it forward faster.
Since those first sleepless nights after Nick went to Iraq, by my accounts, Andrea has performed more than 1,000 acts of kindness. I think I've been the recipient of a few of them, but she won't admit to it. That was back before she went public.
As for Nick, in 2008 he was re-deployed under the stop-loss policy. He has weathered the war with a few injuries. While on patrol his vehicle hit a landmine. He suffered a concussion and lost his hearing for a few days. He now has scars on his face. He also has a tattoo on his arm for a buddy who died. And as of this recording, he should be home soon. His tour of duty is ending.
So while most of us haven't sacrificed for the War on Terror as people did during World War II or protesting, marching, or being drafted as during Vietnam, Andrea found a way to do something. Like the nonprofit service organization of women who have or have had children serving in the military called Blue Star Mothers of America, Andrea is a Blue Star Aunt.
Being privy to her actions and watching her world expand as she reaches out makes me wonder. Whether we support the war or not, shouldn't we all be Blue Star Individuals?
© Copyright 2012, KUNC
(2010-02-15)
Listen Now:
GREELEY, CO
(KUNC) -
This is National Random Act of Kindness week, and that has KUNC commentator Laura Bridgwater thinking about how one Colorado mother has coped with having a member of her family deployed in the War on Terror.null
In my friend Andrea's family reunion photo from a decade ago, her 14-year-old nephew Nick Hein cradles her baby son Brent. In all of the family reunion photos since then Nick is holding Brent, even in the picture from this past summer when Nick was 23-years-old, 6' 2" tall, and Brent was a too-big-to-be-held ten-year-old.
With their blonde hair and oval faces, the cousins look similar. They act alike, too, with their friendly, outgoing personalities. Nick's girlfriend will tell you that there's no competing with Brent. The two cousins have a special bond.
So in 2006, when Nick was deployed to Iraq, Andrea didn't know what to expect. She recalls the controversy surrounding GI's purchasing their body armor. She remembers that because Nick called his mother and asked, "Do you think I should buy some?"
No parent should have to answer that question.
Andrea found herself unable to sleep, worrying about her nephew and wondering if he slept in the protective gear he bought. She could too easily fast-forward and see her son in army fatigues as well. Her son and my youngest daughter are in the same grade at school. I could too easily feel what she was feeling.
But more than worrying, the hardest part for Andrea was not being able to help. She had to do something beyond sending care packages.
She told me, "The only thing I could think to do was to practice random acts of kindness and hope that the positive energy I created made a difference."
She's in good company. The idea of random acts of kindness has gained momentum in the last ten years. Movies such as Pay It Forward and Evan Almighty popularized it. Closer to home, the family of Rachel Scott, the first student killed in the Columbine High School shootings, began a foundation dedicated to random acts of kindness called Rachel's Challenge.
In Andrea's version of random acts of kindness, her family began with simple actions, such as smiling at a stranger or telling someone they were doing a good job. Then they began to make anonymous donations to people in need.
But eventually she felt like she needed to gather more troops in order to support the troops. She figured that the way to build momentum was to stop being anonymous and to reach out to personal connections.
In one example that meant that instead of donating Brent's outgrown clothes to a charity, she gave the clothes to someone she knew. Her gift opened a door so she could explain her kindness campaign.
While Andrea was uncomfortable admitting her selfless acts, people responded to her story with a desire to be a link in her chain of compassion. Friends prayed for Nick, donated to programs for soldiers, and performed their own random acts of kindness.
As she had hoped, dropping the cloak of anonymity paid it forward faster.
Since those first sleepless nights after Nick went to Iraq, by my accounts, Andrea has performed more than 1,000 acts of kindness. I think I've been the recipient of a few of them, but she won't admit to it. That was back before she went public.
As for Nick, in 2008 he was re-deployed under the stop-loss policy. He has weathered the war with a few injuries. While on patrol his vehicle hit a landmine. He suffered a concussion and lost his hearing for a few days. He now has scars on his face. He also has a tattoo on his arm for a buddy who died. And as of this recording, he should be home soon. His tour of duty is ending.
So while most of us haven't sacrificed for the War on Terror as people did during World War II or protesting, marching, or being drafted as during Vietnam, Andrea found a way to do something. Like the nonprofit service organization of women who have or have had children serving in the military called Blue Star Mothers of America, Andrea is a Blue Star Aunt.
Being privy to her actions and watching her world expand as she reaches out makes me wonder. Whether we support the war or not, shouldn't we all be Blue Star Individuals?
© Copyright 2012, KUNC


