While dropping off my daughter at school today, i saw this bumper sticker on a minivan:

"How can we be free if others are oppressed"?

and i thought whoa! Good morning! welcome to reality. That hit me like there is no tomorrow. Well, nothing new to me, but i wasn't ready to be greeted with such reality so early!

so, with my untamed curiosity, i sprang my neck to see what kind of people were in the car. ha! it made sense right away, they were a family from oversees! and from looking at their apparel, i immediately knew they somehow related to the bumper sticker.(well, the news i watch and read, plus their told stories confirm my judgment). I guess having such a sticker on their car makes them feel better. They probably feel liberated. I know the feeling. Only in my case i don't have car bumper stickers.

Instead I have them in me, my veins, my blood, in my heart and in my mind. I seem to always wonder and cry out for those that are invisible to the rest of the world. Those who are held down by poverty, oppression, disease, illiteracy, sin, and those who just don't have the means to help themselves or their children. I think about the boys and girls who don't have books to read, story books to share. I think about the girls who don't have a daddy to hold them and protect them from mean boys and beastly men. I think about the boys who are forced to grow up fast, take care of their siblings at age 7. That really breaks my heart.

Though I may not be an expert in anything, a known human rights activist or a rich woman with a lot of money to pay for the needs of the world, i dream really big. I think about these children and their situations all the time. I somehow obsess over it and it becomes a problem when i concentrate too much on what should be done, how it should be done, and who should do it. It doesn't help that I'm also a wife and a mom and my husband and my kids need me more than anything else.

It doesn't help much either that I'm also from oversees. Seems like there is a tendency to notice more or get caught up in trying to help others....may be I'm wrong and it's just me. May be i should blame America for opening my eyes?...i don't know. The media hasn't helped much either(a story for another day!)

But being here in this amazing country, which has more than it's people need, i can't help but think of those who would benefit from all the wasted food. All the left overs from our fridges. All the good-will clothes and all the tossed cell phones and toys that we clean out every spring.

I can hardly wait to see the smile on their faces, the joy that comes from receiving a new dress. The libraries that each little community could benefit from. The ability to read and study and go to college. The farms that could be filled with plenty if only these families had enough to eat to get strength to cultivate. The water wells and boreholes that would help moisture the environment, provide water for the animals and people, so kids don't have to travel miles to fetch water.

I dream of an Africa, Asia, Middle East, America and Latin America that could sustain itself. I dream of when these countries would get rid of all debts owed to others. I dream of when little boys and girls would move out and about without fear of bombs. I dream of when little girls can walk to school unescorted due to fear of rape. I pray for the day that black girls in America don't have to bleach their faces, burn their hairs to look acceptable to their white counterparts. I pray for the day when families would not have to sleep in the streets, eating from the dump because the governments can't help them.

I thank God for my life, my family, my friends, my ability to read, ability to do things in life and the ability to see, understand and desire to help others have a better lifestyle. I'm thankful even for those things i know i could do, but not right now.

In the meantime, I keep praying, i keep dreaming, i keep hoping and waiting for the day.