“Growing up in Llewellin Barracks in the outskirts of Bulawayo, I was a forgettable tail of a voracious lion. No one remembered me.” I had already spent an hour enjoying Edmond Sanganyado’s stories when that perfect, quirky little metaphor winked from a story about building wire cars. I stopped right then and made a note to share it with you.
I spent my childhood summers in Tulsa, visiting my Grandpa Fred and Grandma Colleen. Fridays, Grandma would be up at 4:30, making a list of garage sales from the newspaper. Grandpa and his buddies would go in one direction, and Grandma would take me with her friends. If it was too hot, or if their friends weren’t available, the three of us would hit the flea market. Grandma had a great eye—she could find an old shoe for 50 cents and sell it at an antique store for $10. Grandpa had a mouth that could talk the shoes right off a horse. She collected coat hooks and drawer pulls and he found broken lawn mowers and sewing machine tables. He would take their finds to his garage and transform them into new items to sell. She let him keep the lawn mowers, but most of the furniture had to prove its worth in the house before she’d let him sell it.
My dad inherited their love for reviving cast-off things. He held his first wrench at the age of two and never really let it go. Grandpa would give him broken washtubs, old tires and engine parts as Christmas gifts. He knew that Dad would rather piece together a motor than play with some department store toy. I still have the “car” Dad made when he was 5. It’s a block of wood with nails for the steering wheel and gearshift, and a Zippo lighter for the engine. I would rather have one of the amazing race bikes or boats he built as an adult, but I never actually learned to drive them. I’ll take the good stories instead. I’m like Grandpa in that respect.
I’m participating in Compassion International’s “Release 3” project, praying that the children whose information I have on my desk today will connect with some of you. John Michael, Mathias, Deysi, Bryan, Erich and Mitiku need your friendship and $38 per month, to learn real skills and enter adulthood with the ability to take care of themselves and raise their own families. Let me know which child you’d like to sponsor, and I’ll send you the information. Share this with your friends, too.
Edmond’s love for books made him the writer he is today. In addition to providing a child with an education through sponsorship, you can also choose to make a one-time contribution to Compassion International’s textbook program by clicking here. Thank you in advance for stepping up to help these kids.
In case you wonder, I will never take your money or your credit info. I will send you to the Compassion site and provide you with sign-up information for these children. I get nothing but the joy of knowing that I helped a few more children by spreading the word.
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