// February 13th, 2011 // 14 Comments » // Faith, Family, My Fabulous Life
I was going to do this sweet birthday post about Ron Burgundy. Sort of a behind-the-scenes thing like you never see him.
He turned 61 yesterday, and as you probably already know, it’s the new 31. Or so he thinks. He just needs longer socks when he runs in the cold, that’s all.
Instead, this is a day-after-birthday/Valentine post to talk about love. No, not the “Let us sell you roses for 50 bucks a dozen today” love. We’re not into that too much around here.
Love, the way God told us to love.
In a God-messes-with-you-to-see-His-purpose kind of evening, we attended a benefit dinner/auction Saturday evening for Bremwood Residential Treatment Center, where RB was the emcee. He’s done this gig for several years now, as he’s worked closely with the staff and several of the residents whom he features on Iowa’s Child. They are beautiful kids who never had a chance, until now. Until the likes of Bremwood.
While other tweens were cozying up to the flat-screens in their bedrooms, stalking friends on Facebook, arguing about parents’ discipline, complaining about not having the latest games for Xbox 360 or an iPhone4, these kids were struggling in a world where they only knew rejection, abuse, bullying, and loneliness.
Two of the kids, Ashley and Kenny, told their stories with amazing confidence and candor. In Kenny’s sincere words last night, he said “I came here basically because my Mom & Dad never wanted me.” He has had a fabulous mentor for the past seven years and has plans for college to study social work. He followed that with “If that doesn’t work out, I’ll go to culinary school.”
Now there’s a kid after my own heart. And redemption at its best. You go, Kenny.
The majority of the evening was spent in true benefit auction style, the auctioneer trying to get people to reach deep in their pockets to support Bremwood. And Ron Burgundy telling stupid jokes that he said I told him to say but I didn’t.
Then there was the silent auction, and a couple of items struck my fancy, only because of this.
A baby who is wanted and loved and prayed for more than she will ever understand. A child whose Mom and Dad and Grandmas and Grandpas can hardly wait to hold and love and spoil. A child who will have a warm home, clothes on her back, and in due time, Curried Cauliflower Casserole in her tummy. A child who will grow up thinking her paternal Grandpa looks like this.
All. The. Time.
Because he does.
I greedily bid on two silent auction items – a purple tutu with matching bloomers and hat, and a little art table with stools that look like little paint buckets. I stalked the table so I wouldn’t get outbid, but gave up on the tutu when it hit $75. And only because of my experience with SAS, was I able to snag the art table.
We wanted it for this child. But we bought it for all of the Ashleys and Kennys out there who will never know a childhood of unconditional love and acceptance. And one day I will tell our Little Princess where the table came from and why. My prayer is that she will hold deep in her heart the love and grace for her friends who don’t have Moms, Dads, love, or art tables. That she will have in her gut the courage to stand up for them when they need someone to. That she will understand that God’s love and grace is exactly the same for the Ashleys and the Kennys as it is for her.
It’s big. Really big.
And about that birthday? Ho-hum. Sautéed scallops, roasted asparagus, baked potato, and lemon meringue pie.
Happy Birthday, Grandpa RB. Sixty-one is going to be your best year yet.
Tea today: Trader Joe’s Jasmine
