Donations are a thing.

They are a wonderful thing.

A complicated thing.

Mostly an excellent thing.

This year among other things,

we donated to an organization who was asking for Xmas gifts for children.

Without knowing anything specific all we know is that

they were fleeing violence, living in transitional housing and with their mom.

Some donate money.

Some donate time.

Over the past few days while I have been ruminating & putting together this gift package

I have been thinking about the possibility of donating intentions.

My hope is that they will be received as good intentions,

but one can never tell.

This person I'm sending hope and care to via gifts is 8.

But, I'm also sending them to her mom who will be the gifting vessel.

I started out thinking about this little person & her mom.

& since she was in transitional housing, that a good gift might be an activity

or something she could take with her when she moved on.

I went to the toy store thinking about newness

and the excitement of opening packaging if you don't have much.

But, it was all pink and plastic and disposable and transient.

And I don't know this little person.

Maybe she's hardcore?

Maybe this 8 year old likes Black Sabbath?

Or maybe belly dancing or rodeo riding,

really, I think 8 is one of those times where anything is possible.

So handmade won out.
Here's hoping the heartfelt hope got stitched in there somewhere.

A little of this?



One of these?

And this

Stuffed with these

and lots more art supplies.
(as well as some other bits)

I decided that no matter who she is,

or who we all are,

that the invitation to self express
has a high hope of being welcomed as a good intention.