letting my conscience be my guide

I'd arranged awhile back to take M on a date of sorts to one of those godawful skating Disney nightmares on ice. As the day approached the excitement increased and yesterday we found ourselves sitting in an enormous stadium surrounded by commercialism and hyped up children. I was doing this because I knew she's love it, so I decided to suspend my disbelief for a few hours, contentedly settling into my seat with M to one side.

Immediately it was chaos. The family behind us purchased some of those freakish plastic Mickey heads filled with some sort of purple liquid. Within a few moments the kids dropped them and as is commonly known, shit runs downhill. We now have a puddle of goo at our feet. Sweet.

That didn't stop the hawkers preying on young impressionable minds with their rotating glowing things and plastic weaponry. They'd approach even as I glare at them impervious to my intimidating chill. Dude, shoo, I say as M's eyes light up and again I say Dude, shoo and he'd look at me askance and wander off. Take that Disney.

The show finally starts and it's typical at best. Princesses are being duly saved by Princes and the softly played evil attempts to transcend over good without success. My eyes are rolling back in my head saved only by intently focusing on my child's face, her eyes are beautiful and her hand clasps mine tightly. She crawls in my lap as we share a tiny chair. In profile she's stunning and I get to stare at her for longer than usual because she's sitting so still.

Just as I'm starting to wonder if they sell beer at this thing the scene shifts into a different riff, my childhood is brought front and center with dozens of skaters come out representing the world. They clasp hands and glide in circles, their voices clear:



it's a world of laughter, a world of tears
its a world of hopes,
its a world of fear
theres so much that we share
that its time we're aware
its a small world after all
its a small world after all
its a small world after all
its a small world after all
its a small, small world
There is just one moon and one golden sun
And a smile means friendship to everyone.
Though the mountains divide
And the oceans are wide
It's a small small world

And my eyes well up with tears and I sing silently along. Amidst all the commercialism and the ridiculousness, it's still this. From those of you in England whose exchange rate with ours means even more money for the jungle, to folks I've never met who so graciously and quickly agreed to help people they do not know. It's this. It is a small world after all.

After the show we walk out into the light. M's still holding my hand and she looks up at me thank you mama, thank you and her smile is wide. We get past the last of the stands selling stupid shit and I notice her eyes grab hold. I clasp tighter as we walk past and she says see Mama, I didn't ask you to buy anything because I didn't need it even though it looks really good and I feel the tears in my eyes again and I pick her up and hug her tight and realize this wasn't such a bad idea after all.

Thank you again for your incredible generosity in helping my friends who have been affected by flooding in Central America. Because of you, a water pressure pump, water, food and medicine have all been purchased for folks who are in desperate need. If you still want to help, please email me at girlplustwo(at)yahooDOTcom. My friends in the Village are so thankful to you.

Update: We are now up to $800.00. You are my heroes. Thank you.

Update #2: We are now up to $890.00. You can't see me but I'm dancing. Thank you. Thank you all for spreading the word and for sharing your precious dollars.
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