‘Monday’s Child’ is an everyday child at Big Brothers, Big Sisters
It was one of those crazy days when you have no time to stop and make yourself lunch, so I popped by my local Applebee’s for a quick bite.
A woman quietly approached my table to tell me a short story of triumph over sadness. Fourteen years earlier, I had done a TV story on her 8year-old son for a news segment we called “Monday’s Child.”
The idea behind those stories was to work with the fine folks at Big Brothers, Big Sisters and bring attention to a specific boy or girl who needed a mentor and wasn’t having any luck finding one.
The goal wasn’t just to help this single child, but to stir the pot and get anyone watching the news that day to consider volunteering for this worthwhile program.
The woman who stopped by my table wanted to thank me for taking the time all those years ago to be kind to her son.
She went on to say nice things about the program and quickly got to the best part of the story, telling me how her little boy, now a big boy, was doing today.
“Great.” That was the word she used. He was all grown up, a success at his job and the photo she pulled up on her smartphone confirmed he was as handsome as the day was long. We shook hands and, as quickly as she appeared, the lady was gone.
It was serendipity running into the woman that way because just seconds before she approached me at lunch I was humming a tune that’s been stuck in my head all week.
You see, just recently, I saw the musical “Jekyll and Hyde” down in New York City, and the opening song, the one I was humming, is a haunting tune called “Lost in the Darkness.”
What does that have to do with this woman, her son or Big Brothers, Big Sisters? Everything.
About 15 years earlier, when “Jekyll and Hyde” made its debut on Broadway, I heard that song for the very first time and it inspired me to write a column about the Big Brothers program. We’ll get to that in a moment.
I tell people all the time if you want to help others there is no shortage of worthy causes that would love to have your time or money. I’ve seen first hand how these “not for profits” help people who are all too often hurting, silent and forgotten. One of those that does incredible work is the Big Brothers and Sisters program. Someone volunteering just one hour a week to a lonely child can literally change that little one’s life. Those aren’t empty words, I’ve seen it. And you don’t need to spend money to make a child happy, they just want attention and someone to believe in them. Someone who wants to be with them.
For all the years I did those profile pieces for the television newscast, a common thread ran through every single one.
The adult who was volunteering their time thought they would be doing all the giving in this relationship with the child — their time, energy, friendship. And in each case, they quickly learned that they were the ones getting a gift in return.
People ask me sometimes what are my favorite stories I’ve covered as a journalist, and I always tell them about “Monday’s Child” because the children were amazing. They are not “damaged,” as some people assume they must be.
They are just kids who need someone to take a moment from their lives and realize how fantastic they are. They just need someone to find them. Which is why that song from “Jekyll and Hyde” haunted me then and stirs me, still. Here’s just the first part.
“Lost in the darkness. Silence surrounds you. Once there was morning. Now endless night. If I could reach you, I’d guide you and teach you. To walk from the darkness back into the light.”
See what I mean? Some of these kids are lost in the darkness and the Big Brothers program, with the help of ordinary people like you, finds them, loves them and, in a real sense, saves them.
Back at Applebee’s, I finished my meal and asked for the check, the waitress just smiled and said, “That lady who shook your hand paid for your lunch.”
As I picked up my car keys and turned to go, I paused for a moment and thought about her son, the little boy he was and the man he has become.
His mother should be proud. I only wish she knew she didn’t owe me a thing. Just seeing how her boy turned out was payment enough.