I was with a group of dear friends of mine at a charity event in support of homeless single mothers. The objective was to collect funds for refurbishing a shelter to host and support these mothers.

The third year in a row we craft Christmas decorations that are sold at fairs. There was also an auction of crafts by local artists. Fully into managing to double the price on couple of occasion with buyers eager to take home precious items, have discovered the joy of challenging the desire to possess. Bought also two pieces of hand made jewelry. One was for a friend of mine who struggles with all the pain of supporting her mother undergoing cancer treatment and needs love and support herself and the second piece for my most recent Irish friend.
Further into the event, I was translating the speech of the charity’s manager for my Irish friend and stopped mid sentence. A moment, she said, she will not forget soon. I heard my name. It was the moment of award of prizes to the charity’s friends. This was the first year they award prizes and there were two of them this year. One was for a company. The second – for a member of the community. When I heard my name my initial reaction was that there is another person in the room with exactly the same name. Tears filled my eyes. This was the second most emotional moment in my life. Second, after my child’s birth. I do not recollect how I got on the stage. There were more than one hundred faces in the room. And an angel – my grandmother, Maria. I paid tribute to her and my friends who share my enthusiasm for sharing. I hope the audience will forget my mumbling as the moment was charged with indescribable emotions. It is a huge privilege and honour I need to live up to.
The prize is  a beautiful trophy called “Seed of love” made with love by a local artist. The shelter for orphan single mothers will be also called “Maria”. I am sure, granny, you see me smiling, as I see you smiling.
This prize comes at a moment my final module professor failed my first assignment in which I proposed to research life entry opportunities for youth leaving state care in Europe’s poorest country for my Master’s. I wrote to the professor that regardless of the mark I’ll continue to advocate that inequalities faces by youth leaving state care institutions are problem with perfect fit in human centered development visions and Korten’s inclusiveness concept.

She realised the mistake she made. I realised the power of persuasion that comes from my beliefs. I was looking to be happy, not to be right. I am looking to make  a least a dozen of voiceless youth happy. They deserve it.

The seed of love is planted. Let it grow.