A Pledge to Love

We believe that love changes people.

We will empower each other to be the boss of our own voice and take charge of our future.

We will speak out and stand up for those who cannot speak for themselves.

We will cultivate endurance, strength and perseverance.

We will provide an interactive platform that allows children to share their stories and pursue their dreams.

We will enable each other to overcome pain and adversity, mediocrity, complacency and trauma.

We will rise together in advocacy, partnership and business.

We will echo to the voices of children so that our message is heard across the nation.

We rally behind each other in pursuit of leadership and prosperity.

We will respect diversity and individuality and we will show the same love and respect to all people.

We will comfort those who are hurting, bruised, broken and wounded.

We will be a fruitful foundation of empowerment, prosperity, compassion and empathy.

We will speak for the kids of the world who will echo our message for generations to come.

We will stand united in passion and strong in confidence and determination.

We will strive to supplement each other’s strengths and talents and enhance their vision.

We will face adversity together as soldiers, leaving no child behind and no voice unheard.

This is our mission:

To spread love, compassion and empowerment.

We are poets, artists, and writers; advocates, students, sisters and brothers.

We’re strong, opinionated and driven. We own it and flaunt it.

May we be a powerful force in this world and may our voices be the echo that moves millions.


BOSSYKIDS.COM

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The Homeless Veteran

I was stuck in rush hour traffic when my engine sputtered and my car came to a stop. I’ve always hated driving in the city. But there I was, halfway through a four-way stop, blocking traffic. I immediately began to panic.

He was small, thin and rugged, clothed in torn jeans and a black leather jacket. His hair was long and silver, covered by a bandana that looked like the American flag. If he hadn’t offered to help me that day, I might not have noticed the dog tags around his neck or the pain his eyes.

He Was Homeless

As children, we’re taught to be cautious of strangers. As women, we’re taught that applies especially to men we don’t know. So it was easy to ignore him before as I passed him standing on the side of the road.

I had seen him. I even read the sign he was holding. It said:

Anything you have to give. God bless you.

I did my best not to give my attention, so I wouldn’t feel guilty for not helping. When he approached my window and softly knocked to get my attention, guilty is exactly how I was feeling.

His name was Ron. “But all my friends call me, ‘Lieutenant,’ he said as he introduced himself and diverted the oncoming traffic.

At first, I wanted to tell him I was sorry I hadn’t stopped when I saw him before. But I didn’t.

I greeted him warmly and thanked him for coming to help me. Then we began to move my vehicle to a more convenient location. He pushed and I steered. He insisted. Soon, I was safely parked at a nearby McDonald’s.

As I shook his hand and thanked him again, I noticed he didn’t have his sign anymore. He must have left it. I asked if I could buy him some dinner. It was the least I could do for his help.

At first, he declined. “It’s okay, ma’am. I stay here some nights. They’re good to me at his one,” he said as he looked towards the ground.

I insisted.

I didn’t expect to sit and eat with him, but I did. He insisted. As we sat together that day, I learned a different side of war.

He Was Married

“19 years!” he said proudly as he reflected. His wife had died six years ago while he was deployed. I listened quietly as told me what happened.

His voice cracked and his eyes filled with tears as he came to the end of his story by saying:

A soldier isn’t supposed to lose a wife; a wife loses her soldier in war. It kills me every single day.

Lt. Ron had been honorably discharged two years later. He has Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. He had been living with his only son after he returned home from his service. Ten months before I met the Lieutenant, he lost his son, too.

He has no family. He’d been living on the street for eight months.

As I left McDonald’s that day, I didn’t ignore the opportunity to give back to someone who had given and sacrificed so much for so many.

I opened my wallet and I gave all that was in it. I wish I could have given him more.

He’s Not the Only One

According to the U.S. Department of Veterans Affairs, Office of Policy and Planning, in 2009, studies reflected the number of living veterans to be 23,440,000.

Do you know how many of those veterans are receiving benefits and help through the government and country they served to protect?

8,493,700 Veterans

Not even half of the men and women who have sacrificed, suffered and served!

Remember Our Veterans

Stand behind our veterans every day, not just today. Remember them throughout the end of the year and as you plan your Thanksgiving dinner. Remember them as you warm your hands by the fire this winter and watch your children’s faces light up as they open their gifts Christmas day.

All our veterans have sacrificed something. All the soldiers that are still serving will be veterans one day and every single one of them have a family.

Many have served. Many have given. Many are still fighting.

Some gave all they had. They gave their lives.

I salute every veteran and our active military personnel. Because of you, we have our freedom. Thank you for your service to this country.

We do not say it enough. We do not do enough!

May we rise together to change it.


If you enjoyed this post, please hit “like” and share it. Thanks for reading! Check out the links below and help support our veterans! 

Wounded Warrior Project

Mercury Housing

U.S. Dept. Veteran Affairs Donate/Volunteer 

VeteransMatter.Org

Or Text: VETS to 41444


This article is also featured on Elite Daily

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This Is Our Culture

The silence overwhelms me.

One more dead. One more abused.

One more sick. One more refused.

The hours tick and the silence

Overwhelms me.

He sits. She sits.

They sit. We sit.

The hours tick and the silence

Overwhelms me.

One more city. One more state.

One more border. One more country.

The hours tick and the silence

Overwhelms me.

One more badge. One more title.

One more mask. One more victim.

The hours tick and the silence

Overwhelms me.

Another grieving. Another guilty.

Another witness. Another silent.

The hours tick and the silence

Overwhelms me.

I won’t say a word.

But the silence

Overwhelms me.


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