Sometimes strangers are placed in our path for a reason. A few years ago at the St. Jude Shrine in New Orleans, a stranger caught my eye. A cap covered her thinning hair, one eye seemed to look in a slightly different direction and and her hands clutched a walker. At the time, I was wearing a religious medal and thought perhaps she could use it more.
As I approached, I worried I might be overstepping with my every step, but the smile with which she greeted me erased any doubt. Leaning on a pew, she graciously accepted the small token and then, as if she were waiting for me to say something more or to pose a question, she leaned in and asked one herself, “You don’t know who I am, do you?” she whispered. Confused, my expression must’ve betrayed my ignorance and she motioned for me to sit.
Seventeen years ago, she began, she had been wheeled to the altar to die. Amy Gomez had been given 48 hours. Her doctors had sent her home. The cancer was everywhere. One tumor was so big she had to wear a bandage around her head to keep her eye from falling out.
With nowhere else to turn, her mother brought her here, to the shrine of the patron saint of hopeless cases. The rest is a matter of faith and fact. Amy lived beyond those 24 hours and the next and the next and by the time she saw her doctor again, she said all her tumors had disappeared never to reappear again. It’s faith as to what you believe is the reason. Here’s what I know: Amy wasn’t supposed to meet me that day; I was supposed to meet her. Whenever I question whether anything is possible, I think of her.
Amy may not look the same as before her illness. She’ll tell you her eye has never been the same. Neither has her hair or the strength in her legs. But perhaps, that’s WHY strangers approach her…so that she can HELP them by gracing them with her story. Life’s about change…keep the faith.
After 31 years on the job, it might be hard to bring your “A” game every day. Hard, that is, if your profession isn’t a calling. A mission. A passion so fulfilling that work doesn’t feel like work. So it is for Capt. Jarvis Jackson of the Gretna, LA, police department.
I’m sure he’s seen, reacted to and prevented his share of violent crime. And I’m quite sure he’s received more than the usual number of commendations having exhibited the bravery and dedication worthy of his captain’s rank. But I am going to bet that more than any award pinned to his uniform, it’s the one in his hand that brings him the most reward—the HIGH FIVE.
Perhaps you’ve heard of Capt. Jackson. After all, it was a viral Facebook video that brought him to our attention. A woman on her way to work noticed a police officer helping kids cross the street. He was holding handmade placards telling them they’re “special” and “amazing” and “champions.” He was so animated— dancing and marching step by step with the kids until is was clear to the observer that he believed they believed today was going to be a good day. A random act of kindness, only not random at all.
With the support and approval of Chief Arthur Lawson, Capt. Jackson targets his efforts. His radar hones in on children, the next generation he hopes will forge a positive relationship with the police in their neighborhoods. Things have changed recently, Jarvis said. He senses it and is sensitive to it. When he first started visiting the schools not that long ago, he said kids were literally afraid he was there to “arrest them, shoot them or take them away.” He was saddened and frustrated but not even close to defeated; rather, he was motivated to personally show them what it means to protect and serve.
Months have passed and now instead of fearful faces, he’s met with smiles and hugs. On Halloween, he doled out at least as many high-fives and pats on the back as he did candy bars. Most of the kids were dressed as super heroes— “strong, amazing, special champions.” Clearly, Capt. Jarvis Jackson is making an impression when he visits these kids…bringing his “A” game to every school.
Life's About Change...Make it Real.
Thanks for reading Delta's Blog. Please let me know if you have a story of change that should be shared. xo
For video of Capt. Jarvis:
]]>Sometimes you flee a place in search of change; other times you choose to stay and be the change. Wade Griffin, one of New Orleans’s most eclectic artists, has planted himself in Central City, a neighborhood facing a dual threat to maintain its identity: crime and gentrification. It’s here the son of a carpenter grew up and here he and his wife are raising their daughter despite the departure of so many friends and family.
Hurricane Katrina destroyed their home but not their desire to rebuild it…or their life there as they knew it. Wade, a contractor and woodworker at the time, took it apart piece by piece, and then rebuilt it from the baseboards up. But you never saw a mound of scrap in front of his house; he kept it, seeing beauty and purpose in the discarded debris.
In the meantime, to lift his spirits and lower his stress, he returned to the musical roots he hadn’t nurtured in years. He turned his den into a sound studio and started writing and recording songs. He bought instruments and equipment and earned a growing reputation in the neighborhood. Sadly, however, his good fortune turned into misfortune when greedy thieves ransacked his studio stealing his equipment and the future he banked on before he could insure it.
Wade could’ve given up and moved out, but the contractor-turned-musician didn’t miss a beat. Instead, he picked up a paintbrush and from notes to strokes, created new art. The canvas gave voice to the song in his heart. Each image is bright, bold and captures the grit of both the subject and the artist. And each is showcased in the framework of fortitude. Remember the scraps he saved after rebuilding his home, the storm debris? That’s what he wraps around his artwork. It’s all part of the beauty that is change.
Life’s about change…make it real.
~Delta
P.S. To check out more of Wade's work: https://m.facebook.com/wlgriffinart/?ref=bookmarks
]]>Think words don’t matter? What if a single text sent in a rush but directly from the heart could change your mindset? It happened to me four years ago. A doctor friend of mine, a Harvard cardiologist with whom I’d done a health show, had reached out to me inquiring about a private family matter. I’m not sure if you’ve ever been scared to the point of paralysis, but it’s possible. I was working but not really working, reading but not comprehending, hoping but not believing. She could have sent a text translating medical jargon or a note sharing or interpreting stats. But she didn’t. Instead, she wrote: Stop. Right now. I want you to close your eyes and envision a candle. It’s burning. I want you to smell it and feel its warmth. Now, as the flame grows—that’s the spirit inside you getting stronger and stronger and the wax that falls? That’s the disease dripping away. The body is a puppet. It will often follow where the spirit leads.
And she had living, breathing proof to back it up. Dr. Stephanie Moore is part of the heart transplant team at MGH in Boston. She knows it is possible to be scared to death and she knows it is equally possible to cheat it, too. She recently introduced me to a dear friend of hers, a young newlywed in Texas recovering from her second heart transplant. Second. Today that woman posted that she ran a flight of stairs for the first time in years and only realized the enormity of the accomplishment in hindsight. She did it! She’s still taking one step at a time but there’s a pep to her step now. She’s only in her twenties and she just. keeps. going. Her flame burns bright. Her wax drips away forming one stamp of victory after another.
What has you scared? A job? A divorce? An illness? A loss? Burn a candle. Close your eyes and follow the doctor’s orders. Your spirit burns stronger than your fear.
Life’s about change….make it real.
~Delta
P. S. If you have a story of change, I'd love to hear from you!
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Nothing fuels change faster than a mother on a mission. Cherie Melancon Franz had an idea to upend a mindset. She’d been planning it for weeks. What she hadn’t planned was her big “reveal,” the day she’d speak it into reality. That was left to fate and irony. There she was— decked out in glitter, sparkles in her hair, beads on her neck and a bejeweled purse on her wrist that dangled as she waved to the crowds below. You might say she looked like a princess, but diva be damned, don’t you dare!
Cherie was standing in the last spot in the last float of New Orleans’ newest all female Mardi Gras parade when, in passing conversation, the talk turned to her daughter Anabelle’s recent 11th birthday. It was a princess party and Cherie made a vow. Never again. Never again did she want her daughter to think she had to put on make-up to be beautiful or that beauty, no matter how deep, was “the” standard by which to be measured. Forget Cinderella—our daughters need to dream beyond Disney—was the crux of her crusade. And just like that, what she had been mulling in her mind spilled out of her mouth. Move over, Cinderella, “Thinkerella!’ is the new girl in town, a bespectacled brainiac with a desire to inspire. And she did.
“Thinkerella” quickly became a destination party site, where little girls donned lab coats and goggles instead of high hems and gems. They learned about Newton’s Third Law, got messy and ate. it. up. It was full STEAM ahead— science technology, engineering, art and math in a make-believe-but-you-better-believe it’s possible setting. And they got noticed, too. ThinkerFellas wasn’t far behind and then ThinkerKids, an after school program.
The company grew. In three years, it’s hosted more than 60 parties and 30 workshops and has branched out into more than a dozen schools. Cherie wound up hiring teachers who, ironically, freed her up to return to learning. She’s training to become an advocate. Cherie’s youngest child, Ethan, is an autistic 9 year old whose brilliance just happens to be unconventionally conveyed. Forsake make-believe, she encourages all parents, for the sake of making them believe…anything is possible.
To learn more about Thinkerella, check it out! http://www.mythinkerella.com
Life’s about change…make it real. If you enjoyed this post, please share it. I’d love to meet more of you and tell your stories. ~ Delta
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When death knocks at your door, sometimes you have no idea you’re about to answer it. Teresa Bovia was watching tv when she heard the rat-a-tat-tat that, at first, raised no alarm until she saw the gloves of the men who grabbed her attention as they stood at theirs. The Marine Corps officers were in their dress blues… on her front porch… on behalf of a grateful nation. She watched as their lips moved but heard nothing. The officers were right in front of her but all she saw was her son, Joey. Her first born.
Sgt. Joseph Bovia was 24 when on his third tour in Afghanistan, he died protecting not only our freedom and our way of life, but something more universally dear to him…children. Joey was standing guard at a remote Afghan school when he died defending it. A sniper’s accuracy likely spared much pain, but only for Joey. His parents’ was immeasurable.
Their son was gone well before he had had a chance to have children of his own. No one to carry on his legacy. That’s what his parents could have lamented. But they didn’t. Instead, they birthed a movement in Joey’s name. There are now hundreds of children to carry on his legacy. It’s called Joey’s Hope for Hungry Children and it is alive and well in New Orleans, Joey’s home town. Each Friday, volunteers stuff backpacks full of food for children to take home. These are the kids who rely on school to provide breakfast and lunch during the week. Now they rely on Joey’s legacy at home. They’ve served 250 children every week for four years. Teresa took her grief and created a gift. Joey will now be remembered for more than the life he gave; he’ll be remembered for the life he lived…and ALL of the children he’s served along the way. Always faithful.
[Here is the link to their website to learn more](https://www.joeyshopenola.org).
If this strikes a chord with you, please share. I’d love to meet more of you and hear your stories… ~Delta
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