December 22, 2012

From Cindy:

My friend Jeannie from the MISS Foundation shared your story about your beautiful son.

My son (who was born the same month and year as Theo) had a brain tumor removed from his cerebellum when he was 2.

            I am touched and humbled how strong a parent can be.

            To fill Theo's stocking, I put together a bag of food---Ritz crackers, pull-top canned goods, nutrition bars---and drove to an intersection where there are homeless folks asking for help.

            I handed the bag to an older man. On the frigid night we are having, I hope he retires for the night and gets out of the cold and eats. He replied, 'God bless you, sweetheart.'

            The bag also contained a note: In memory of Baby Theo.

            I also mentioned my son.

            Theo is inspiring the good in people, as I've seen by submissions and 'shares'.

                        Thank you.

From Kristin Reed:

The last couple of years I haven't known what to submit for this, but this year I have a better sense:

            For the last two years I've been facilitating a support group for people who've been incarcerated at OAR in Richmond (a job I owe to Peter Henry, who very kindly recommended me when he was away two summers ago). I normally only see my group members in our weekly meeting, but this year I volunteered at OAR's day long Christmas party, where we served food and offered clients gifts to give their families. I realized that afternoon that one of the men I met with that day lives under the overpass near my home. I see him frequently, actually, though I've never realized he also spends time at OAR. 

            A lot of our clients are homeless, and a day of free food and small items of clothing can make a big impact. Some of the women we work with were so happy to find small gifts for their children that they cried when thanking volunteers. 

            This isn't really "my" act of kindness; it belongs to the staff at OAR who spent an incredible amount of time collecting donations and food for the clients. It was, though, one of the few things I did this year that felt truly in the spirit of the holidays, and as though it might be a nice way to remember your little boy. 

            Happy holidays, and thank you for commemorating him in such a thoughtful manner.

From Daphne Rankin:

Jamie,
Each year, I do an act of kindness in honor of Theo. This year, I'm
doing things differently. My first act of kindness was to give my
favorite waitress and mother of 4 a 200% tip to help pay for
Christmas.
            Then Newtown happened. This year, Theo and I are honoring those 20
children. I am working on a total of 21 acts of kindness.
            I hope you and your dear family have a very joyous holiday season.

From Liz Canfield:

Hi, Jamie!  I sure do miss y'all!  I wanted you to know that Theo's pic and candle are still on my mantle in my house and I lit the candle for him this past weekend and we had a little chat, as we do sometimes.

            I love that you do this, and though I did feed a bunch of meters on Franklin Street today and try to do other silly random acts like that, I just wanted you to know that Theo is still very much in my thoughts and heart, more than I need to be mentioned on the blog.  I will never forget him, our little dragonfly:)

            Much love to you and yours,

                        xoxoxo liz

Documenting Kindness

On this solstice evening, the 7th anniversary of Theo's Christmas Stocking, I want to share a beautiful gift that was given to us. At the end of each semester, Jamie shares Theo's Stocking and the story behind it with his students and invites them to participate by committing their own acts of kindness in honor of Theo and in honor of those they love who have died.

One student this year was inspired to share the story with others in a different way. Alexander Kreher is an amazingly talented artist, photographer and filmmaker and multi-media producer who is currently studying photography and film at VCU. He found a passion for documentary filmmaking during studies at the Salt Institute early this year. Alex asked us if he could come into our home to document the story of Theo’s Stocking in hopes of sharing the Kindness with others. The video below is what he made.

I am so moved and so thankful to him for this beautiful gift. The knowledge that our children live on, that others are thinking of them, remembering them, that their lives continue to matter to others, is a great comfort to bereaved parents. Our greatest fear, now that they are gone, is that others will forget them. Alex’s gift to us is a testament to the beauty of our son and a testament to the ways that his beauty continues to touch others. Thank you Alex.  


                                                   https://vimeo.com/55914097


I would also like to share a link to the MISS Foundation and our Kindness Project.  Kindnesses in our children's memories can be done all year round. And now, MISS Kindness Cards can be downloaded for free for your use.

Remembering them all with Kindness.

December 19, 2012

From Christy Smith:

For Theo's stocking, my random act of kindness was to make four homemade baked goodies for a friend and her family. She is helping care for her aunt who is dying of pancreatic CA any day now, and she has had no time to make it feel like Christmas for her own family. Hopefully, the gesture made life feel more normal for her kids and husband and honored her aunt's final days.

From Anonymous:

I'm sharing an act of kindness that someone did for me. I use a walker and am fairly ill, so getting out is not easy for me. I decided to go out to see country musician Lee Brice in concert at a small nightclub recently. I had won a Meet and Greet with him. The nightclub was packed and there was no room for me in the venue to stay to watch the concert. So, I planned on just meeting him and then leaving afterwards. He was very nice and I just casually mentioned that he had a large crowd and would have a warm reception for the night. I also mentioned that there probably wouldn't be room for me to watch the concert but that I'm sure he would have a great show. He not only made sure I had spot to watch the show, but it was a spot by his sound equipment and near the stage. His entire crew of people working for him treated me like I was one of their own for the night and all hugged me as I was leaving. One even gave me a guitar pick. This was truly a random act of kindness that I will pay forward to someone else in the future.

FromSteph:

I went to visit someone in the hospital that I haven't seen since high school. Through the magic of Facebook, I had seen her post that she was sick and made up my mind to visit.
She and I were not close in school, in fact, I barely knew her. However something kept pulling on my heart to visit. When I walked in, she started crying and explained she didn't have anyone that had checked on her. Thank you Karla for challenging us all to do something nice for someone. My spirit is restored.


From Bonnie Thomas:

A friend of mine I had known only on Facebook, has been homeless in the last year and finally got to move into an apartment just before Thanksgiving. She has two boys. She is so very thankful to have a home this Christmas and mentioned not having money for a tree. I told her I would buy one-- no worries! I picked her up a few days later (meeting her face to face for the first time) and we went and found a tree for her family and brought it back to her place. This act of kindness was done in Theo’s honor.

From Anonymous:

I bought a little purple sock monkey and left it on a table in a coffee shop where a little girl was sitting bored with her mom who was working (looking for a job) there.

~She was very happy as I spied – thank you Theo

From Lauren Methena:

I gave a homeless man near my home, a man I see nearly every day, a granola bar in honor of Theo and a clementine in honor of Aydin. He was appreciative of them. He seemed like a nice man. I may start carrying granola bars more often. These came out of my lunch box today.

December 18, 2012

From Udari Liyanage:

I hope you are doing well. I still remember the story of your son. Like I did last year, I wanted to give back to the community this year also. I bought a bunch of food from my money and gave it away to my friends. It felt good. I hope you and your family will have a nice break. Stay strong:)

From Frank Green and Sally Campbell:

Dear Thelonius Fueglein,
            I just bought Kid Goats for you.

            Oxfam Unwrapped: It's part of OxfamAmerica's exciting gift program that gives in two ways: by providing a symbolic gift for you as well as by supporting people in need.

 For herding families, goats are hardy investment. Kid goats cost less than adults, so buying a pair along with their mother is a way to invest in the future while saving some "doe". That savings can help pay for some human kids education – – – and the mini-goats teach responsibility, too, as the youngest members of their community are often charged with their care. The proceeds from your gift support Oxfam America's efforts to create lasting solutions to poverty, hunger, and injustice. Together with individuals and local groups in more than 90 countries, Oxfam saves lives, helps people overcome poverty, and fights for social justice.

From Jane Sun:

I only grow out my hair to donate 10 inches to Locks of Love. This
happens every year-and-a-half to two years. Though this act may not be
random, I am dedicating this donation to Theo.

From Jalynn Byrd:

The random act of kindness I did was, I helped my friend finish her final art project. She had an hour left before her class that the project was due in and she wasn't even halfway done. I helped her sit and cut out over a hundred color pallets from Lowe's. I glued down cotton balls and and the color pallets to her project while she cut out more. We ended up finishing the project just in time for her to get to her class.

From Katie Allen:

I gave a cookie to a homeless man.

From Lynn Welton:

Jamie and Karla, I made a donation in Theo's memory to Noah's Children.

From Matt Clingempeel:

Tasha and I sold our house at end of July, or at least we thought we did. We moved out on our closing date because we needed to get our daughter into the school she would be attending for kindergarten. Needless to say, we did not close on our closing date. A little hiccup we were sure. No. Three months later we never sold our house because the buyer could not get her financing approved. She never told us why the entire time we were paying two mortgages. It seemed awful to us, to be led on in such a way, to be told every week that this is the week you are going to close. Then we found out. Soon into buying our house, she learned she was going to lose her job. She applied for numerous positions in her company but was unable to secure one of them. She was without a home and a job now. I sent her a Christmas card telling her that we hope she is well and that things are looking up for her. (I hope she had a forwarding address set up!) I don’t know how many times I need to learn that while things seem bad for me, I never know how bad they are for someone else. I know it wasn’t much, but I hope it made her feel better about everything.

            Theo and Lula are beautiful names. I am sorry for your loss.

From Lindsay Chudzik:

I volunteered to teach a novel writing workshop to middle school students in the Philadelphia School District who might not have the creative opportunities they experienced over the 10-week class had it not been for the amazing non-profit that helps organize these writing and critical thinking workshops for them. Though I am very busy with my full-time job and adding another class on top of my already heavy load wasn't easy at times, the Sunday afternoons I spent with these students were always the best part of my week. Seeing how excited they were to write and learn, how ecstatic they were when I brought in a guest speaker who happened to be a YA author we were reading together, made every second of my prep time worth it. Yesterday was our last day and, already, I miss the students. I've signed up to teach another workshop this Spring.
            Best,
                        Lindsay

December 15, 2012

From Anonymous:

I donated $20.00 to the Brady Campaign to Prevent Gun Violence.

From Cara Vu:

I came home really late the other night and noticed a driver's license on the side of the road. I looked at the ID hoping the person's address was indicated nearby my apartment; unfortunately, the person's home address was not in Richmond. I decided to go ahead the next day and turn in the license to the police department. In addition, because the person's address was not labeled in this city, I was worried he wouldn't be able to be contacted. So, I decided to go the extra mile and find a way to contact him. I reactivated my Facebook (which was deactivated for quite awhile), managed to find him, and sent him a message telling him I found his license and he would be able to pick it up at the police station near downtown. He never replied to my message, but at least the license was not put in the wrong hands and hopefully he received it at the station.

From Melissa Ligouri:

We donated clothes to victims of Hurricane Sandy.
And made dinner for a friend who just had a baby and suffered complications from the C-Section.
We are also buying toys for a child who lost his home to Hurricane Sandy.

From Marci Spilka Greenfield:

Dropping off bags of toys and clothes at a local women's shelter for the holiday in memory of little Theo!

From Jessika Matheis:

I will be buying gifts this weekend for two children I chose off a tree; they would be my baby's age. Before I do that, though, I will go back and choose a little boy who would be Theo's age. ♥

From Anonymous:

I took out my roommate's six bags worth of trash.

December 13th, 2012

From Francis A. & Julius K.:

The story you told about Theo in class really got to me. It got me thinking a lot. I wanted to give back to the community and to the homeless so since it's the end of the semester, I got 6 boxes of pizza with my swipes and my friends swipes to give to the homeless. 

            I guess they need a break too. It's cold and they deserve a warm meal. Toast to Theo. I'll keep you and your family in my prayers. Take care & see you next semester. 

From the Students of VCU:

I witnessed VCU's generosity when they helped donate over 70 pizzas to local homeless shelters around Richmond. In little over 3 hours there was more food donated then I ever expected and it really made take pride in my community. Because of them, a lot of hungry children had a good meal. 

From Mario Mejia:

For the last year I've been letting a friend live with me whether I'm back home or in my dorm. He isn't sure what he wants to do with his life. He has no one to turn to and talk to for guidance but me. He's unemployed because he doesn't have a stable place to live and along with that he has no money. For food we use my swipes. My dad is homeless and unemployed with cancer. I sometimes wish he had a safe place to be and I'd let him live with me if it was possible, but I live in a dorm. I've been homeless myself so I know what it's like to go through it.

From Alison Henson:

Tonight, my roommate and I decided to buy candy canes for everyone on our floor and anonymously put them on everyone's door and wrote "happy holidays and good luck on finals!" In hopes that it'll give everyone a boost before finals! We had you in our thoughts this weekend! That was our good holiday deed :)

From Kelly Ball:

Hi, Mr. F and family!

In Salyersville, Kentucky there is a brave 9-year-old boy named Dalton, who has been living with Cystic Fibrosis and has become increasingly sick. His doctors think that he only has a couple more months to live. He recently was allowed to come home to be closer to his loved ones for Christmas. Dalton’s last wish is to break the world record for receiving the most Christmas cards (which is 35,000), so I made and sent him a card with some candy in it. I do not know Dalton personally, but his story inspired me, and I just had to do something for him. I’ve attached pictures of him and the letter I sent him. I have also decided that, from now on, I will try to commit random acts of kindness every day in honor of Theo, because your story also inspired me to be a better person.

From Anonymous:

I was walking from the train station earlier after taking my best friend and had a personal pan pizza in my hand. I noticed a homeless man with a sign and he was standing there and so without a second thought I went over and gave him the pizza. I just now realized it was one of the many random acts of kindness that i plan on doing from now until Christmas. My name doesn't have to be in it because I didn't do it for recognition, I just wanted to let you know. Hope your weekend went well.

From Jennifer Lynne Jones:

Recently we became aware of a family of five young children who had just lost both parents within the last year. Our contributions to the foster family's Christmas for these children was the best gift we could ever get because their joy in the love of all these people is simply priceless. We also sponsor a shelter family every Christmas and this year, we'll do it in memory of Theo.

From Michelle Salyer:

I paid money on a layaway for a family I know is having a hard time financially right now. That way I know their kids won’t do without this Christmas.

From Rita K. Mullins:

In Memory of sweet Theo, I made stockings stuffed with candy and girlie stuff and Santa gifts for two little girls whose mom is having a hard time. The look on her face was priceless when I gave them to her so her girls will have something under the tree.

From Gina Metcalf:

When we went to get our Christmas tree at a local ranch, there was a teenage girl working there who was really helpful to us. She was mainly just measuring the trees for pricing. I walked up to her with a Random Act Of Kindness card wrapped with some cash and told her that it was for her but to please only look at it once I was out of sight.
            So beautiful that you do this for Theo and your family. ♥ Thanks for letting us be a part of it.

From my lovely and ever beautiful friend (she moves in mysterious ways), Michelle Beaubien Witte:

"My friend Jonathan Karron is running in the Atlanta Santa Speedo Run tomorrow for CURE Childhood Cancer. I donated in Theo's name and we'll just say this act involves a brave man in a Speedo doing something great! Jonathan is going to think of Theo tomorrow during his run. I do random acts all year with Theo in mind. I liked the idea of getting him involved with this run."

and then later….

"Jonathan raised over $1300 for CUREChildhood Cancer and the event raised over $90,000! Love you Karla, Jamie, Lula and Theo."

From Lisa and Daisy Troop 5107, in Richmond, VA:

This year, our troop has already performed one act of kindness and will be performing another soon.
            The first act, which I will dedicate to Theo and all the children cared for at VCU Health Center that have passed, was to make fleece tie blankets for Child Life. Child Life is an organization at the Children's Hospital of Richmond at VCU that tries to make hospital life more normal for the children there. I knew I wanted my Daisy troop to do some kind of service project to learn how to be "considerate and caring," which is one part of the Girl Scout Law. I learned about tie fleece blankets, saw that they are on the Child Life WishListand voila! we had our "considerate and caring" act. The ladies I have spoken to at Child Life at *thrilled* to be getting more blankets, which makes all the cutting and tying worth it.
            The second act, which I will dedicate to my mentor, Waldo Morales, who served in the Air Force before I knew him, and died in 2005 after contracting a virus helping Hurricane Katrina Victims, was to adopt a soldier. She is a counselor for soldiers that need someone to talk to. We are (I am) writing her letters and emails, and we are preparing two care packages to send her at our next meeting. Adopting and caring for this soldier is teaching the girls another part of the Girl Scout law: how to be "friendly and helpful." Part of the Girl Scout Promise is "to help people at all times" and taking care of our solider is another way the girls can learn to be "friendly and helpful" and to "help people at all times" even if they are strangers.

From Karla Helbert:

I saw on Slice of Humble's Facebook page the call for getting Nicole to Japan. Nicole needs to get to Japan to see her very sick mother right away. I know how important it is to be with a loved one when they are very ill and need you, and you need to be, by their side. We donated to help Nicole to be with her mom. She is leaving tomorrow with her children to go to Japan to see her mother. Our thoughts are with you Nicole.

12/12/12 Auspicious Days

Today is December 12, 2012

12/12/12

Some believe that this date is auspicious, lucky, full of meaning, full of planned weddings, hoped for births, a day of mass meditation and prayer, and some believe it’s just another day on the calendar.

But what's for sure is that it won't be repeated in over a generation. There won't be any other repeating dates like 11/11/11/ or 10/10/10 for 89 years. The next time it happens will be January 1, 2101. Maybe some of us will be here to see the sun rise and/or set on that day, most of us will not. Perhaps, if we are lucky, some of our children, or their children's children, will witness that day.   

According the Mayan calendar this date, 12/12/12 or 12/21/12, is the harbinger of a new era. Not the end of the world,but perhaps a brand new beginning. A new age of peace, a time when human kind can finally decide that we are caretakers of this beautiful planet, and of each other, and that we only really get this one shot.

Reincarnation aside, when we are present in the bodies we are currently inhabiting, this is the only time you get to be the you that you are right now in this body. As Martha Graham said, in one of my favorite quotes of all time, "There is a vitality, a life force, a quickening that is translated through you into action, and there is only one of you in all time. This expression is unique, and if you block it, it will never exist through any other medium; and be lost. The world will not have it. It is not your business to determine how good it is, not how it compares with other expression. It is your business to keep it yours clearly and directly, to keep the channel open. You have to keep open and aware directly to the urges that motivate you. Keep the channel open."  

Perhaps if we can each keep our own channels open, we can benefit from this energy of change that (perhaps) begins today. And even if it doesn't begin by some esoteric numerologic or other mysterious standards, we can certainly decide to begin it all on our own. And perhaps that change can continue throughout this solstice season, through this next era, into the coming of the light, the promise of newness, and of rebirth.

The time of the solstice, the festival of light, the Christmastide, is a time when, whether we realize it or not, we are all quieting our breathing, retreating inward, sowing hopes and dreams and possibilities of something better for the coming of the light half of the year; for our lives, our families, our futures. Even in the depths of darkness, we can know that the light is growing. I hope that on this auspicious date that we are truly being ushered into a new and lasting period of peace and human realization of our Oneness. In this spirit, I can think of nothing that represents the spirit of my child, Theo better than an era of kindness, of goodness and light. That spirit is in us all, the spark of light, the heart of kindness, and the beauty of inspiration. We can be more than we think we are. 

In that spirit, I offer these kindnesses that have been done and that have been shared with me in Theo's honor and in that of others who have gone on.

First Post of this Season: Holding Space

As we prepare for this holiday season, the 7th Christmas without our firstborn child, I struggle again to find the elusive balance between holding the true joy and wonder of the season, which I have always loved, and especially as it is reflected in my four and a half year old daughter's eyes, next to the indescribable ache that fills the gaping space in my heart that will never be full again.

I found this quote yesterday by Iris Murdoch: "Bereavement is a darkness impenetrable to the imagination of the unbereaved."  If this is true, and I know that it is, then why do I keep trying to make other people understand what this is like? What it really is to know, to know, to know, in the marrow of my very bones, the absolute agony of the unalterable fact that, no matter how many years upon this earth I walk and live and breathe, and do all the things that living people do, never at any moment will I feel again the shape and softness of my son's warmth in my arms. I remember exactly what it was like to hold him, to smell the top of his head, to feel the soft fuzz of his hair, to kiss his right temple, whose contour fit the shape of my lips perfectly, the weight of him in my arms, heavier and denser than one would imagine such a small baby to be. Never will I see him walk, hear his voice, or gaze with parental pride, or irritation, or any other emotion a parent feels at any given moment in the life of the child they are charged to watch over and whose precious life they are given to guide and guard. Never will  I see him succeed or fail. Never will I know his friends that may have been, or eventual lovers or spouses, or any grandchildren that might have been.  The gaping canyon of what is forever missing is deeper and  vaster than even I, living with it, can imagine. How can I possibly help others to understand? If I were to sit down and try to list all the things I will forever be missing, it would take months, maybe years. I truly can't begin to imagine how long that list could get. I only know that the  canyon is always there. It's echoes reverberate across the years of my life as they stretch out before me. And with that canyon's presence (and our son's absence), I have also chosen to be as fully present in my life as possible, knowing that I may not always be successful, but still moving toward that fullness of presence--even with Theo's absence. I do that for my husband, for my daughter, my mother, my father, my friends, for all the people whose lives touch mine. Theo's absence, and the grief that fills and flows out of that emptiness, exists alongside all the beauty of life. That beauty of life also includes his existence and the incredible sweetness of his beautiful, painful and all too brief life. Because of that, I must be as fully present as possible.

My own life, my living child's, the life of our family does not exist without that space that he should, and in so many ways, does still occupy. We hold open the space that is left behind by his death, the space that he would have filled, should have filled, but which physically will not, and cannot be filled. That space, Theo's space is still open and here. He is as much a part of our family as we can possibly have him be, without his actually being here with us on this plane of existence. And his space is filled with love. It is as treasured as it is suffered. Because of his absence. Our love for him is so great, that to let it go, if that were even possible (which it isn't), would be even more painful than the grief that we endure daily. And of course, I speak entirely of my own experience. Jamie's experience I believe is similar, but it is entirely his. And our daughter Lula's experience of being without her brother, who is absent, but so very present, is also her own and it will shift and change throughout her life. Nonetheless we share that emptiness in our own individual ways, and as his family, will always hold that space.

Sometimes, for me, the balancing and holding is difficult, so hard, so exhausting, and so protracted, that I wish I could just drop the weight of it, or crawl under a heavy cover and sleep it off. But I cannot. Because for me, even if it were possible to do, this would be to deny my child, and the indelible mark that his short, but extraordinary life left upon me and, I believe, upon the world. So, in the holiday season, which has become in so very many ways, something to be gotten through (as much as I dislike that fact, for me, it is a truth), we try to find ways to make the beauty of our child shine a little bit brighter and further. This Stocking Blog is our way of bringing his light to the particular darkness this season inevitably brings. A way of balancing our grief and sorrow with the very real love and joy that we hold in our hearts.

The first Christmas after his death, we were living in a new house. Somehow, his absence here seemed less painful than his absence from the house we lived in before--where he lived, where the brief "firsts" that we did get to experience occurred, where he lay ill, where we tended and cared for him, and where he died, encircled in our arms. Somehow, even from the moment we walked through the door, this house, new to us that first Christmas without him, this place seemed somehow full of Theo-ness. It seemed like his house too, even though he never physically lived here. I decided that I would put up the tree and decorate the house and the lights and the garland and wreaths, just as I would if he were here. I did it for him, and it felt good and right. But when it came time to hang his stocking, I was suddenly stunned into the realization that on Christmas morning there would be nothing there. His stocking would be empty. Or, we would put things in it that we ourselves would take out, and that we ourselves would use, or give away, or tuck away in a drawer. Theo would not have those treats or sweets or toys that other children would be enjoying from their own stockings. And that thought brought another fracture to my already broken heart.

It was December 21st, the Solstice, that I hung his stocking with such care. Looking at it hanging there, flat and empty, looking exactly like I felt, I decided to ask for help. Asking for help was something I had gotten much more used to learning how to do, and I was getting much better at it. This grieving thing is very difficult to do on your own. I went upstairs and I emailed our family and friends and I asked them for help in filling Theo's stocking. This is what I wrote:

"Sometime between now and Christmas, do something nice for someone, no matter how small or large, it doesn't have to involve money--just commit a random act of kindness. When you do it, think of Theo and dedicate that act to him and his sweet spirit. Please write it down and send it to me through e-mail. I won't read it. I will print it out and put it in his stocking and then on Christmas morning, we will open up all the notes and read them. If even only a few of you do this, we will have a really beautiful thing to share on Christmas in our sweet baby's memory and someone else (the recipient of your kindness) will benefit by a true example of the spirit of Christmas. I will pray that all of us will be struck by inspiration, that something will come to each of us, some kindness that we can share of ourselves, in Theo's name and in his memory, to benefit someone else."

We received so many responses, I was stunned as they came to my inbox daily. They came from all over the United States, many from people we didn't even know, because others had forwarded the email on. We spent the day opening the folded pieces of paper that I had printed and placed inside his stocking as I received them throughout the week. Those messages brought so much comfort to us. Knowing people were thinking of him, that he was not forgotten. That so much goodness was being done in his memory. The third year without him, I made his Stocking Kindnesses public by starting this blog.

You can read the original messages if you like by going back to the archived blog entries to the very beginning on my first post dated Monday December 1, 2008.

This year, the 5th year of Theo's Stocking Blog, our 7th Christmas season without him, I once again extend the invitation, to our friends, our family, the whole world at large, to commit a random act of kindness in honor of our child as well as in honor and memory of someone you love who has died. It is in remembering and honoring them that we continue our relationships with them. And it is how we invite others to share in our love for them.

I wish you a season of warmth, light and love,

Karla

January 2012

I took all my left over swipes from school and bought a bunch of pizzas and went around to places where the homeless gather (the park, down the road from my dorm, ect...) and gave them all pizzas! They were so happy!
---Becca Weiss