JP Patches is a childhood celebrity for me.  I remember being transfixed in front of the television entertained by his joyful antics.  He was magical.

The bell on the roof basket rang this morning with an urgency that said I must respond.  As I poked my head over the edge to sneak a peak at the contributor, whose face should appear but JP PATCHES himself!  Oh the rush of memories.

I am 8 years old again.  Standing on the set of his morning show.  Beside me is the SeaFair Junior Royalty King.  It was the Seattle World’s Fair and I served as junior SeaFair Royalty Queen.  (Don’t be impressed please; I was queen because my name was randomly drawn out of a hat at the Seattle Chamber of Commerce who sponsored Junior Royalty at the time.)

It is I who was in the presence of royalty: JP Patches.  I recall JP asking me if I and the Junior King were married.  I remember squishing up my face in horror.  I much preferred the SeaFair Pirate.

Today, JP brought smiles to everyone around him.  JP connected with fans of all ages as he dropped his own contribution in the basket.

I am toasty under layers of comforters and hugged by the warmth of a traditionally hand-woven Malian blanket. Do I have to face the cold outside this tent? I hear the wind whipping against the flimsy sides of the tent, pushing hard to invade my space. Oh please tell me it’s only 4:00am and I can languish under these blankets for a few more hours.

Then I thought of Fatoumata in Mali, West Africa. The thought of Mo encourages me to jump out of bed without a single whine and bless the sides of the tent protecting me from the force of wind. Mo sleeps on the sidewalk in front of the mosque in Bamako. She doesn’t have a tent.

Her story reminds me why I’m up here and I honor her every day for reminding me of how much I have, even in the worst of times:

Mo was the youngest beggar to attend Hèrè Jè. With no birth records, we guessed she was about 11 years old. From a rural village, her parents came to Bamako looking for employment. What they found was begging.  Shortly after Mo’s birth, her father died leaving her blind mother and 5 babies to fend for themselves.  Mo and her sisters sometimes found peanuts to sell on the street.

Mostly they begged on the streets. Their “home” an alcove on the sidewalk in front of the grand mosque. When we first met Mo, she didn’t remember eating regularly. She explained mostly they ate meager leftovers from people bringing food to the mosque.  Only once did Mo remember receiving a new dress for a Tabaski celebration.  Mostly she relied on throwaway clothing from others.

Fast-forward 4 years.  Mo is eating healthy food every day. She supports her mother and sisters.  At Hèrè Jè Center, Mo learned to use a serger that “finishes” fabric edges.  Not only has she mastered the machine ~ she also knows how to repair the serger when it breaks down. We think she could become an engineer! Her favorite activity is wax-stamping the fabrics. She’s a master.

When she first came to Hèrè Jè we asked her dream.  Her response, “To earn enough money so my mother doesn’t have to beg at all.”

Mo is now a talented artist creating beautiful hand-wax stamped fabrics. Her dream has come true.

Mo is why I have no complaints living up on this roof.  Bring on the wind.  Bring on the rain. I am impervious to it all because of Mo.

Lori Matsukawa interviewed me tonight for the 6:30 news on KING TV. I can’t believe they could edit and get this online so fast! Amazing team and I appreciated them coming out to support our cause and give it such fabulous visibility! Thank you!!

Check out the story for yourself:  http://www.king5.com/video/featured-index.html?nvid=386979

I thought meals up on the roof would be about the food. Silly me. Meals are a means for conversation. Dialogue about what’s ON the table, WHO prepared the meal and who’s AT the table.

Meals have become, slow-down-sit-down-notice-the-food-and-sometimes-even-share-it-with-the-person-who-prepared-it-and-has-a-story-to-tell kind of eating.

I totally confess. I’ve convinced myself I’m so busy that dinner consists of opening the freezer, un-thawing store-bought pizza, standing over the sink eating with my hands to minimize the washing of plates. Napkin? Unnecessary. Crumbs fall directly into the sink. In all fairness, I’m communing with nature while I eat ~ I can see the birds outside my kitchen window.

So meals are a whole new experience up here on the roof.

Meals Day ONE

Sue Sorensen (aka Sue Soaring Sun) lives in Edmonds and has an amazing garden. I ate her garden for lunch; well not exactly the whole thing:  fresh cucumbers, broccoli and peas straight from the pods. Add a touch of natural yogurt with dill ~ voila ~ can you hear me feeling self-rightously full of healthy food! Mom, are you reading this?! Yes, I ate a whole meal of fresh vegetables. (And yes, sometimes I make up words.)

Sue is an artist. Don’t imagine the word “artist” as one-dimensional. As a lawyer Sue uses her art of research to help others know the law. As a garden artist she tills the soil by hand to feed her family with healthy foods. As a mother Sue guides her daughter with the art of love. Add power seller on the internet artist and activist artist helping save the Historic Rose House in Edmonds and you get the picture. A full artistic life.

So I was grateful when she gifted her time to prepare a meal for me. Sue commented, “Like many busy women sometimes you just ‘forage’ to put something together. I happen to be able to forage in my garden.” Lucky me she forages.

Have a look at what people spend on food for a week in different parts of the world.
http://www.everybodygoto.com/2007/10/12/what-people-eat-around-the-world/

What do you notice? How might you think about food differently?

Food As Survival

At the Bamako based Hereje Training Center in Mali,West Africa, previously begging street children eat breakfast and lunch every day at the center. Learning to eat nutritiously is as much a part of the curriculum as health, AIDs prevention, literacy and social skills. While begging on the streets the girls were lucky to eat something every two days.

I noticed the first few weeks at Hereje Center, new students will spend all their money on food.  Students receive a stipend while they learn to prevent them from having to beg during the 18 month training.  The $20 stipend covers transport, their food, food for any family they may have, water plus a portion to a savings account in a local microfinance institution.

I remember asking Sanaba, 15, when she first came to the center, “What is your dream?” Her response, “To eat until I am full.” In the beginning, some students would wake at 4:00 am in the morning to walk to Hereje Center instead of spend money on bus fare.

And what do they do with the extra money you ask? When I asked Assa, 14, she reached into her pocket; with a big grin, she offered me a piece of candy.

From kiroTV:

“Schillios said her goal is to collect $1 from a million people. So far, she’s raised $7,000.

“Small is significant in my opinion. And I want to help celebrate those, and help people to feel good that they are making a difference in the world one person at a time,” said Schillios.

Those who want to donate at the site are asked to put the money in a basket on the sidewalk which Schillios then hoists up.”

Click here to read the full article.

From Seattle’s KOMO News:

“Carol Schillos has moved into a tent pitched on the roof of her boutique in downtown Edmonds, and she plans to stay there until a million people send her $1 each to benefit her charity, Fabric of Life.

The nonprofit group works to improve the quality of life for women and their families in poverty-stricken regions around the world with focus on affordable credit, education and health care.

But Schillos wants more than just a buck from a million people. She also wants each contributor to tell her how he or she is changing the world, however small the impact.”

Click here to read the full article.