Today is September 11th, 2009. A day when the earth cried 8 years ago. Throughout history there has been moments of time defined by evil. One of these moments came to American soil on this day. What happen we all know, the why's and what happened this story is not about.

I remember that day well. I looked to a photo of someone I loved and said a prayer. He is my son Jordan. We hadn't spoken to each other for over 2 years. A bitter good-bye were the last words. I knew he was a soldier but remained stubborn in talking. Inside I missed him and thought about him everyday. A parent can relate with that. Life doesn't change the love.

I knew there would be war. I immediately thought about our last parting and how I wanted to tell him I loved him. I was proud of him for the things he had accomplished since leaving. No words can describe what this parent felt that day. Parents that did not even have children in the service became worried. Maybe their young children would someday be impacted by this day?

Jordan and I soon talked and put our differences aside. We didn't know what the future would hold but I knew that he would never go again, even one day, questioning if he was loved. I always assumed he knew that but what had my actions shown?

As I watched the ceremony on TV (8 years later) I paused at the sound of the bells. I thought about the lives lost and how much grief would be felt as they tolled. I thought back to a picture I held close. The nation had called on a day of service to others. What did this mean? It meant that there was a movement of people trying to make the earth have a good day. What could we do? Do we give money to a help a person or agency? What else would matter? Hum..............

I then remembered that I had received an email the day before from a local program that was helping homeless Vets (and others) get back on their feet. A local artist in town (known throughout the world) was donating artwork to this home. I thought that was pretty cool. My wife and I drove down to his Gallery and talked with him. We learned more about this humble man and his kind acts. To help give another a home is one of the most important gifts that can be given. These lives know what its like to look to the sky and fear black clouds. They know what it is like to go to sleep not knowing if they will wake up. Would they be set on fire or beaten for laughs? Imagine closing your eyes and having that last fear before you sleep.

We were really touched by this artists compassion. We made it our goal to highlight this to others. It took on a life of its own. Not by what we did (maybe at first) but by what others did. Within 3 days this programs mission was heard around the world. We watched on WORLD news as the story became a beacon of light to many. All started by a kind act.

The media gets dragged over the coals for always seeming to highlight negative news. Turn on the news and soon your depressed! Just anger coming out all over. There are some media outlets that could careless about what people think of all the bad news. The bottom line is the dollar and that is what talks at the end of the day.

I learned through this experience that its not always that way. The media organizations who highlighted this program were happy to help (which readers will learn more about later). Their own hearts played a role in this local program helping to give another a home. If people want more good news it's up to them to help make it. Contact your local networks, or national networks, and pass good news around. You just never know what lives it may help in the end.

I can't help but think of a life that may have been changed, and given a home (from the attention called to it). Maybe someone wrote the programs name down and handed to another, and then another. That name then becomes a bus ticket and then a bed. Think about it? Think about the life who is living in a bus station and seen this beacon of light on a TV bolted to a chair. Having nothing and then the feeling felt when just a tiny little bit of hope was felt. That's powerful.

Anyone can do these projects. Good news is around you, you just need to have your eyes open to see it. The world has become just a little bit better from one kind seed planted. That seed took off and it blossomed on its own.

We will never forget the date September 11, 2001. To know that one of these projects may help a Vet, at this time of year, was an honor. May this September 11th be remembered by just one person finding a home. The timing couldn't have played out on no better on a day that needed it most. Think about the day when the beating of the war drums began, and the life who may be coming home from the result of those drums. Some may have become aware that their lives matter on this exact day.

This post is a tribute to all the lives impacted by that one day of evil. Nobody knows what tomorrow will bring. Tell the person you care about that you love them. Take nothing for granted and help the life next to you with theirs. We are in all of this together. What you do matters. ....... Quick as you know we were out of the picture............

The Sequoia Project

Today we donated a painting to a local public elementary school. Schools are being forced to slash budgets, lay off teachers, and yet are expected to do more in educating our children. What could we do about it? What can one family possibly do to change any of it?

Sometimes things have to be just rode out. Situations change and the future is uncertain for all of us. We decided, as a family, to work on a project and then give it away to the library at this school. As soon as we walked into the library kids soon flocked towards it. The librarian had the perfect spot for it in mind. I helped draw the design , my wife Sandi and our 7-year old granddaughter CC then put their talents to work. The finished work took about 10 hours. It was done on the best watercolor paper we could find.

What child will later spend time looking at what these busy workers are doing? How many will sound out the word and learn what a library is? How many will later go on using a library as the stepping stone to higher education? How many will discover a world where a book will take them anywhere they want to go? It may play a role in showing children that the library is a safe and wonderful place.

Schools are hurting. Anything positive helps. Will anything done like this help 'change' or 'inspire' a life? Think about this for a bit......... if you can inspire someone to read you will have given a gift that knows no boundaries.

What's been interesting is watching CC become involved in these random acts of kindness. These good acts have added happiness to her life and awareness in others. She knows that the time put into them is to enrich another life. As more stories are released readers will learn more about how this 7-year old has helped the world become a better place. As elders to our young we have an opportunity to teach them the things that really matter in life. Compassion, understanding, love, taking care of the weak. It all starts at home. If you're a parent reading this take some time out of your day and do a project helping others with your children. They will take to it like a fish takes to water. What will they then teach their children?

Will this matter at the end of the day? It certainly can't hurt. We believe that every small action of kindness does matter.

Update: We later received this nice response that made this experience worth it. This is what fuels this project.

"How wonderful! Everything happened so quickly this morning I didn't get much of a chance to thank you. What a great project and what a terrific way to show CC how to help people. Good luck on your future activities!"
TheSequoia Project.

This morning I took a handcrafted sign down to our local Salvation Army and presented it to the captain. The sign read 'HOPE'. He had an idea where to put it as soon as he read it. The look on his face showed appreciation, with a touch of bewilderment. This organization see's first hand the struggles of so many people. The reason for the sign is to help lives who are in need of believing in a better tomorrow. A simple word can say so much. Life dishes out hard hits and unjust situations for all of us, at one time or another. We hope for an answer, a change of circumstance, or even a miracle. Some are hanging on to hope with all the strength they have.

What would life be like living with no hope? What would the world be like? To best describe what it is, I decided to look at what it would be like without it. I have often heard 'there is no hope' for some people or circumstances. I do not believe it. I have seen both change.

In each town, big and small, there are lives feeling turmoil and fear. Some question how they will ever go on and are in need of human compassion. Maybe they lost a job, a home, or a loved one. Maybe they struggle with disease or economical hardships. What would these lives believe in if there was no hope? I hoped this sign will be viewed when it is needed the most. I was sure it would be. A very simple action that could be the words another needs at their darkest hour.

About 6 hours was spent making the sign. Each letter was cut out, sanded, stained, and made to spell out the word. You'd think that it would be hard to part with something worked so hard on. It wasn't. A car was filled with people outside of this building. Everything they owned was tied to the top. I felt bad that I could not give more. I wanted to reach in my pocket and give them the money needed. My pockets were empty though. I'll probably never forget the looks of despair on their faces.

Some of these projects are uncomfortable, which makes them that more in need. To help some a person has to go right where the need is most. I am not one who can walk away and pretend that I didn't see someone hurting. Look a different direction or look past like I never seen a thing. I was asked by one of the people if I could help them out with some gas money. I told him that I was flat broke today and had brought only a sign saying the words 'hope'. I felt stupid and it was clumsy. I was sure they were thinking that 'hope' would not fill their gas tank. The answer back I will also always remember "Thank you. Hope is what we need the most right now". With that our lives went two different directions.

UPDATE: The response received from Captain Brian was what fuels this project.

Thank you so very much. I read your post on the blog and was very touched by it and the comments posted by others. My plan is to place "Hope" in our homeless shelter in such a way that it's the first thing the residents see as they walk in the doors, ushering them into a place of hope.

--Capt. Brian

This story has also been featured at a website which has brought over 2000 viewers and gaining about 500 new each day ( Since 9/13.09). Skipping a stone takes on a life of it's own. Comments posted are also from different areas of the world. Thank you.

The Sequoia Project

While getting a few items at the grocery store I came across a lady named Grace. She was probably 60 to 70 years old. I noticed her because she was taking items back out of her bag. She did not have enough to cover the expense. The day had already treated her rough. It was raining cats and dogs (not really) and she was soaked. She must have walked to the store to have been so wet.

The items the clerk was putting into a basket, to be returned to the shelves, were vegetables and noodles. She had a look of confusion about what items to put back. She looked like she was going to cry. With how wet she was I doubted anyone would have even noticed. I did though. I asked the clerk to simply put the items on my purchases. Both looked at me like they didn't understand. With his own confusion the clerk started to explain that certain items had to be rescanned and subtracted first. I told him to put all of her items on my bill. The total expense of Graces tab was $17.

As I walked out to the car Grace was standing under the entrance of the store, preparing herself for the walk home. She looked at me cautiously but then recognized me as the person who had just helped her. I asked if she was alright and if she needed a ride any where. She replied "no...I'll be just fine and thank you. That was the kindest thing anyone has ever done for me." With that we each walked back into our separate lives.

I wish I could say that the money just spent did not matter. We live paycheck to paycheck and things get pretty tight in between. I knew it was the right thing to do though.

Later that day we discovered $20 that we didn't remember putting away in our jar. There always seems to be good karma that comes out of doing a kind act. You never see it at the time, but it comes back. Keep your eye out for Grace the next time your in a store. She lives in every town and city. You will sleep better tonight.

The Sequoia Project

Social workers often deal with defining moments in other lives. The pay is low, the thank you few. There was one that made a huge impact in my life, many years ago. I wanted to do something to show others in this field that the work they do matters. This was an open letter sent to 80 different state and county agencies. As I read the letter to my wife we had to take a few breaks for emotions to settle. Perhaps you know a person asking themeslves if what they are doing matters. This will assure them that it does.

Dear Social Workers,

The work you do matters. On the days when you are burnt out, and questioning if it does, take a few moments to read this letter.

I was 12-years old when I first met Dale. I was lost in a world of institutions and dormitories for the last few years. The reasons why I did not understand. At the time I thought I was broken and no good. I later learned it was because of my real home that was broken. My father was an abusive alcoholic and kept his entire family in a constant state of fear. My mother ran out on the family when I was 3. The county became involved when schools noticed behavior problems. A decision was made to put me into the institutions that could maybe help.

Dale explained to me that he was a social worker, and that he promised to help find a regular home and family for me. I liked that idea! I had no clue what a 'social worker' was but he seemed really kind. I also didn't know what a regular home or family was like either. There was a side of me that wished him luck in finding this home. I was convince that nobody really cared.

Dale kept his word. It took a little while but I'll never forget our driving away from the huge and cold institution I had been at. The place meant well but it was no place to grow up. I remember, to this day, how much faith and trust I had in Dale. I didn't want to show him these things because I was use to disappointment and rejection. I played the tough kid role and acted like it didn't matter. It did though. The 'tough' kid act was a defensive wall I had learned to put up, so I could pretend nothing could hurt me.

The foster home he introduced me to became the home he promised. I wish I could say that life suddenly became easier but it didn't. I, again, had trouble in school and in this new home. What I did have though were people around me who really cared. I pushed the envelope all the way too. I was convinced that if I acted up bad enough Dale would give up on me and the family would send me away. It was my way of testing and seeing if these things would happen.

Let me tell you, I put this man through some challenges! I was one of his first cases when he became a social worker. I tested him on just about everything. He kept telling me that he cared and I would not be able to push him out of my life. I was one of his kids and he did not give up on any of them. The stories I could share about making his job rough would fill a book. I was a little troublemaker! Once, while sitting in his car, I opened up a small fire extinguisher to see what it would do. He thought he could trust me 2 minutes while he made a quick stop for something. Wrong. When he came back the entire inside of his car looked like it had snowed in it!

I was expecting a loud voice screaming at me, saying how stupid and dumb I was. I was prepared to keep my eyes on his arms and hands. I had been smacked around enough to know what to keep my eyes on, and was good at ducking. Dale was never mean but I knew he would not be thrilled about my little experiment with his car fire extinguisher. I was use to quick changes in personalities.

The look on his face, when he returned told me I had nothing to fear. He took a deep breath and shook his head side to side. I also looked like a snowman. I had tried to quickly clean things up but it only made things worse. What we did next was clean the car. He was not happy about what had happened but took the time to talk with me about mistakes being made and correcting them. When we were done he even thanked me for helping clean the mess up.

I had this illusion in my head that once I found my mom that she would be there to love me and make my problems disappear. She lived somewhere out west. I knew nothing of her, not even remembering what she looked like. When I was about 14 I ran away in search of her. I took a bus to one of the largest cities in the world, with about $20. Dale was the person I called when I became lost and scared. It the middle of the night and I refused to tell him where I was. After about an hour on the phone he convinced me to find a police officer and that they would help me return. He traveled to this huge city and we talked about this desire to find my mom. He explained that she did love me but she had a different life. He asked me to trust him and talk about what I was feeling as he drove us to our home state.

These stories are just one of many I could share about this social worker named Dale. He was the kindest man I had ever met in my life.

This was over 35 years ago. I just talked with him on the phone a few weeks back. He has retired and was preparing to move to a new town. His wife and he wanted to be closer to a daughter (who was soon to have twins). He called simply to share what his new address was and phone number. I know his wife and have watched his children have little ones of their own. Never in personal ways but always being kept up to date on their lives. I hope they will someday read this and know it is their father I am writing about.

The next time you are questioning whether your work matters believe that it does. He never judged me or was mean. His voice was the only compassionate sound I heard, during some of my darkest and confusing hours of my young life. We did not always get along and agree on things either. When I became an adult he helped guide me as a friend. I did not understand, at 18, why he could no longer have the same contact with me, but as the years passed we simply became friends. So the next time little Johnny has you pulling your hair out, questioning everything, read this simple letter. You do make a difference. Please forward this to every social worker you know.

Sincerely,

A once lost child.

Hopefully this will reach thousands of people who do this work each day. This also was submitted to large media outlets to pass along.

The Sequoia Project