11 PM - Christal Earle’s Blog

We meet a lot of people - too many to be able to recount or remember. Some of them are with us for a good time, some are with us for a long time and some of them leave an imprint on us for a lifetime. Cassie is like that for me.

There is something very deflating when you feel like you are just another face, another story or another number to contend with. One of our desires in Absolute is for each person that we work with and for knows that they are invaluable; no one can take their place. We believed this in theory, but Cassie has helped me to better understand what that can look like in reality. Cassie has traveled with us to Dominican Republic and Thailand, as well as interning with us in the summer of 2008. Always, she has been an incredible encouragement to those around her. Last week, a hand written letter showed up in the mail addressed to me; it was from Cassie. Within that envelope was incredible insight into what motivated her to be a part of Hero Holiday. But, even more than that, it gave me insight into who she truly is.

Cassie grew up on the West Coast of Canada. Like many Canadian teenagers, she struggled with who she was and where she fit in in the world around her. Unlike many of her counterparts, she decided to see what she could do to change where she found herself. The first time we met her was in 2005 at the Canadian Student Leadership Conference (CSLC). We were the ones on the stage and she was one of the hundreds of faces in the crowd.

The first time I saw you speak was in 2005 at CSLC. I was in a really rough place at the time, fighting with an eating disorder and extremely low self esteem. Your presentation was one of the highlights of that week and really did make me feel like I had a purpose. When I got back to school I started slipping again, but then the real turning point came when I went on my first Hero Holiday in the summer of 2006 to Dominican Republic. Four years later, that is still one of the best weeks of my life. I felt strong, capable, and like I really could make a difference.

I wanted to take the time to thank everyone at Absolute for the amazing amount of effort and passion you put in every day. In the three years I went on Hero Holidays, I never once felt unsafe and always felt like I had lots of people I could turn to for support of any kind.

To everyone at Absolute, thank you for everything. You are some of the best, most caring people I have ever met. I hope you know this and that you hear it enough.

Why does her letter mean so much to me? Because Cassie’s story has been one I have encountered over and over again across Canada and around the world. It is the story of hope, freedom, and ultimately, the realization that there is so much more to live for when we are willing to believe in what we can become. Today, Cassie is finishing up university and getting ready to go out into the world to continue to change it from another angle, and we are proud to know her for who she truly is: a young woman of incredible purpose.

Life is a gift and each of us, like Cassie, has the opportunity to decide what to do with that gift. Thanks, Cassie, for being so honest with us and for being willing to allow the truth of who you are outshine everything else.

To find out more about Absolute and our programs, check out www.absolute.org.

Miracles are cool. I don’t mean the Jesus-in-a-Taco style of miracle or the miracle that comes when you order the Holy Water from the televangelist with a bad hairpiece that’s on TV at 3:00 AM. I mean the kind of miracle that makes you wonder and marvel at the incredible gift of being alive; one that truly makes you want to keep going and believing that there is more.

Mari-Terése might fall under the miracle category - at least according to Megan, one of our Hero Holiday interns in Dominican Republic.

She had no money, barely an education, but enough passion and determination to change the world. She was fifteen when I first met her. We were walking through a Dominican village, the road was rugged and dusty, but she was barefoot. I noticed her right away for two reasons: she looked almost my age with a glowing smile - and she was pregnant.

We started talking. Her words resonate in my head to this day, and I can’t bring my thoughts away from her will and raw desire to learn and thrive into the world where she was born. She explained, in the simplest way she could, that she wanted to help. This astonished me: the ‘helped’ was wanting to help in return. Heavily pregnant, she was going to night school every day in hopes of one day becoming a teacher and sharing her wisdom with her community. I was, and continue to be, unbelievably inspired by her maturity and consciousness of everything around her. Although I only knew her for a day, I could already see right into her selfless heart through the words that she spoke. I felt as though we had known each other for a life time.

We continued to talk, and the conversation led us to where she called home. We sat down, and if you could just hear us, you would think that we were two teenagers chatting over a cup of coffee! But when the lights of reality sunk in, you could see the walls of her house eaten away by termites, bug carcasses scattered across the dirt floor, and the table that was laden with a single basket of food that was meant to feed a family of over ten for possibly a week.

Inevitably, it was eventually time to leave. As she stood up from the table, I was suddenly reminded of yet another burden that she carried that was unlike mine: she was about to become a mother.

Now, over a year later, I saw her. The brightness in her eyes drew me instantly and once again, I couldn’t help but notice her maturity and sense of purpose. I watched in awe as she balanced a healthy looking baby in her arms. Although she may not reach her potential in terms of an education, a miracle had occurred: her baby made it! Her safety, and that of the baby was extremely uncertain due to her limited access to health care, and the disease rate that could easily have terminated her pregnancy. But a sigh bigger than words can describe what was let out when I knew that she was okay. Currently sixteen, she continues to go to school, pursue her dreams, and now, care for another life.

The idea of miracles happening in everyday life can come about in unexpected situations, but in a way, it can bring us back down to where we really are. I am now content in the fact that she is safe. I know now that my year of endless worrying and constant fear is now over - at least for the time being.

Life is fragile and we live in the unexpected every moment of every day. Somehow, once you have been exposed to the extreme inequities of the world, you understand that on a whole different level. Each day is a gift and nothing is taken for granted. Birth is often the only true separation between those who have plenty and those who go without. Right now, as you read this, Megan is witnessing that reality firsthand on Hero Holiday, as together with the team of over one hundred participants, we work to bring hope and help build a future for the community that Mari -Terése is a part of. To find out more about how you can be a part of Absolute’s Hero Holiday programs, check out www.absolute.org.

I am totally addicted to seeing people happy. I know, I know - happiness is an emotion, joy is a state of being, blah blah blah. But doesn’t it feel good to be happy? To feel that rush of good endorphins bubble up in your stomach, threatening to make you giggle or burst out laughing - even at the most awkward of times. Happiness is a commodity that only seems to grow when you give it away: it’s meant to be shared. One of the greatest compliments you could ever receive is when someone tells you, “You make me smile”.

“Happy” means to be delighted, pleased, or glad about a particular thing. In it’s European origins, the concept of the word “happy” actually meant lucky. I like that. I like to think that every time I feel happiness, I am reminded of how lucky or fortunate I am to be able to experience it, no matter how long or short the feeling lasts.

If we understand the concept of happiness, then we can better understand what motivates us as humans. Some people are happy when they buy nice things, obtain financial security, have good health, travel, or get new opportunities in life. All of those things make all of us happy to a certain degree and that is part of the gift of living life. But I have found something else that has made me infinitely happier than what I can reach out and touch and feel. It’s more tangible than something I can see and more powerful than something I can use my tactile senses on. It is the reality of watching hope and love in action. And, to be honest, I don’t know how I ever lived without it before I started to experience it firsthand.

I remember the first Hero Holiday we ever did. It is still so vivid in my mind because of all that it did - both in us and in the participants. It was the summer of 2005, we were in Dominican Republic and every day of that trip brought new heartbreaks, new challenges, and new memories. However, one moment stands out like no other. We were far back among the cane fields, in a small village hidden from the rest of the world. It was called Villa Ascención and we had been building houses, working with both impoverished Dominicans and stateless Haitians. One of our projects that came up last minute was the chance to dig a trench to bring fresh water to that village for the first time. The only water that the residents had access to was in a river far below, where they did everything from washing their motorbikes and kids, letting their livestock drink, and even obtaining their own drinking water. This trench would mean that for the first time ever, these people would have access to clean, fresh water and that meant hope for the future.

The trench stretched a long ways back up over the mountain, and looking at the new pipe that now laid in the trench we had just built, we embraced a feeling of accomplishment and pride - we actually did what we set out to do!

But for me, the moment that I will always remember was when we stood among the people in the village, staring at the end of this hose, waiting in anticipation for the gift that it could hold. I was the one standing there holding onto the pipe when it gushed out. As we grabbed it and began to spray the water into the air, all the kids began to laugh, clap, dance and sing with the excitement of this moment. Little arms threw themselves around our legs and waists, thankful faces kissed our cheeks and hugged our shoulders. And in that moment, I didn’t just feel happy or lucky or even warm and fuzzy. I felt completely alive. Never had I been so aware of how blessed I was to be there at that moment, and never had I had such an appreciation for the chance to be a part of this.

Each person that stood there with us that day will remember what it felt like to know true happiness. We had been part of something beautiful and it was the thread that ties us all together in humanity: the ability to reach out and offer hope. To all of you that were a part of that special day, thank you. You make me smile.

Absolute is back in Dominican Republic right now and we invite you to follow our adventures and the people that are a part of it all. We have numerous trips to Dominican Republic throughout the year and we would love to have you join us! www.absolute.org

For many people, a job is a means to an end. They do what they do so they can afford to do what they want to do. There is nothing wrong with that. We all need to eat and live, and we need to have a way to finance that life. Zig Ziglar, one of the world’s top motivators, was once quoted as saying, “Money isn’t the most important thing in life, but it’s reasonably close to oxygen on the ‘gotta have it’ scale.” I couldn’t agree more. Except that I would say that hope is kind of like that too - you gotta have it. But fulfilling a job can be about so much more than money. It can also be about changing the world, one life at a time.

If you know me, then you probably already know about Kru Nam. I love this woman. Her passion and her guts really set her apart among the people I work with all over the world. It isn’t that she is forceful - it’s that she is a force to be reckoned with.

I needed to know what it was like to be where she is at. I needed to find out what kept her going, so I figured the best way was to just come out and ask her to share it herself:

“Why do I do what I do? I help these street kids because no one else is helping them and it is hard to find people to help them. There are too many people who take advantage of their innocence and steal their dreams, using them to traffic drugs, selling their bodies, enslaving them and doing almost anything you could imagine to them. We have to take advantage of this opportunity to rescue them while they are young, because when they grow up it will be too late. They will become the ones who are causing the problems in society.
Of course, there are victories in what we do; moments where you remind yourself that you can keep going. When we have government officials begin to accept these kids as human beings and recognize that they need a future like every other child then we know we have had a victory. Or even when the kids see themselves as being worth the fight, it’s a victory. It’s like planting a seed that will grow into a tree, it’s a long process; but it feels good when people can see the tree.
Recently, we were able to help a mother and child. The mother has mental disabilities, and her child was begging for money on the streets. She wouldn’t let me help them for over two years, and just recently we were able to bring the girl into one of our children’s homes. It makes me happy to know that I can keep the mother and daughter together and yet help them both at the same time.
At the same time, there are too many heartbreaks to count. Moments like where I helped a 16 year old girl escape prostitution. We gave her vocational training skills and helped her get a new job and attend school. However, once she finished her vocational training, she returned to prostitution. She said she felt more beautiful than before and more confident. It broke our hearts to see her return to the very thing that was destroying her life.
If we only ever focused on the setbacks, we wouldn’t be able to carry on. But every human walking on the earth was born in the same way. Everyone has a life that was given to them by God: the rich, the poor, the black, the white - this is what makes up the world. If we want the world to be in peace and have meaning, we have to see everyone as equals. We each have to do our parts, and this is mine.”

Over the past four years, I have watched and learned from her about what it is to hang on and see the bigger picture, no matter how discouraged you may get. Along with the incredible men and women who stand alongside of her, Kru Nam has helped to see hundreds of stateless kids rescued out of slavery, prostitution, and exploitation. Through constant challenges, setbacks, and perseverance, they are helping to shape the future for kids around the world - one life at a time. They are not rich - in fact there are seasons when they themselves struggle to survive - but they are full of hope and that hope is what keeps them going.

This summer, we are returning to Thailand with Hero Holiday. We are working with Kru Nam, JK, and many other unsung heroes, helping to build a better future, one life at a time. You can join us! Check out www.absolute.org.

“It’s not what you’ve got, it’s what you use that makes a difference.” ~ Zig Ziglar

Ernest Hemingway once described courage as “grace under pressure”. I like that. Especially because I think it describes Iveta’s life.

The first time Cole saw her, he was making his way through one of the nameless tent cities within Port Au Prince. When you are driving by them on the street they are only a blur of mud, smoke, tiny kids in threadbare clothing, and endless empty eyes. Every hour of every day is needed for survival, and if you stop to think about it too long, it can threaten to completely overwhelm you with hopelessness and grief. But compassion says to those who need it, ‘ I want to understand you. I want to see life from where you stand.’

That’s why he got out of the car that day and because of that, his life collided with Iveta’s…

She only looked me in the eye and pierced me with the intensity of her struggle. She didn’t ask for a single thing. Not once. I will never forget that.
No tent, no dry tarp, only the relentless struggle to survive one more day.
A tattered sheet covered her bed of sticks, rocks and gravel; a meager effort to stay above the puddles that would inevitably collect. She couldn’t wait in the food lines because of the constant, desperate struggles that would break out. She missed out on the tents and tarps because she couldn’t risk the jostling line ups with her baby. He was not well.
At close to a year old, his emaciated skin hung from his thin, fragile frame. She had walked almost two miles for her baby to receive medical attention, yet there was nothing that anyone could do. Clearly, this child was dying and there was nothing more that could be done.
As she stood there, gravely looking me in the eye, I realized that thousands around her had dry tents - and each other. All she could do was hope and believe that there could be something tomorrow.
Each time we returned we brought supplies to her: food, toiletries, candles, dry tarps. And still, she asked for nothing from me. When I asked if I could take her picture, she graciously conceded.
I can’t ever forget her face. She was more than a young mother without a home or any support - she was a woman with an unshakable resolve.

Iveta was famous and didn’t even know it. Through a random series of events and the gift of social networking through Twitter, Cole’s photo of Evita ended up on the Ellen Degeneres Show, featured by Eva Langoria in an interview. Eva was talking about the plight of Haiti and found his photo. Despite all of the sincerity and compassion that was felt around the continent, it never had the chance to reach Iveta. This past week, Cole returned to Port Au Prince to find Iveta and see what could be done to help her further. It was too late. Poverty’s death grip had struck quietly again - unknown to the rest of the world. Her quiet struggle was over and there was nothing he could do to change it. Iveta died from lack of nutrition and health care.

This is the double edged sword of compassion. Compassion cannot exist without love, and love is the one thing that runs deeper than words. Philosophers, poets, and preachers from all over the world have tried to help us define love. It is deep, it is complex, and it can seem to be a dangerous place to live, when you consider it from the perspective of self preservation. Iveta had nothing in this world except the love that she had for that baby and in the end, from a limited perspective it might seem that not even that love was enough. But I cannot accept that: love and compassion are powerful. You don’t stop trying or believing because of loss or heartbreak. Instead, you keep on believing that it can get better. That you can be a part of making it better. That was what defined Iveta’s courage: she kept putting one foot in front of the other. I have never met her, but I cannot ever forget her. Her story is now part of my own.

The world will miss your quiet voice, Iveta. Your story and your courage mattered to us. Because of your dignity and resolve, I type these words - in honour of your courage.

In the year ahead, Absolute will be returning to Haiti and Dominican Republic, experiencing the power and strength of compassion as we work with Haitian people. When you reach out to the unknown, it can be scary, but it is never without effect. Join us and find out for yourself! www.absolute.org

“Courage doesn’t always roar. Sometimes it is the quiet voice at the end of the day, saying ‘I will try again tomorrow.’” ~ Mary Ann Radmacher

If you are like me, math is not on your grid: numbers float around, but you avoid them like the plague if at all possible. To those of us on this side of the debate, numbers are cold, harsh, and uninspiring. But many people reading this may be the total opposite: numbers give you a warm fuzzy and their linear definition makes you feel safe and secure. Numbers can paint a picture, but they can never completely tell a story. In the end, above all, numbers don’t lie.

Frantzo found Marcelin one day last summer, as he was showing some friends of Absolute around his village. Marcelin is a very positive, upbeat guy, and he is not that different from many other Haitian dads in his village: he hopes that his kids can get an education, he hopes that his wife is well provided for, and he hopes to live long enough to see his kids grow up. He is a kind, gentle man and he and his wife are always welcoming people into their home. But there is one thing that is different about Marcelin from most other dads in his village because Marcelin lost the use of his legs through a tragic accident. In our world, an accident such as his would have resulted in a long but affordable hospital stay, followed by extensive physical therapy, and resulting in eventually getting his life back. But in his world, medical care was beyond his grasp, physical therapy is something he has never even heard of, and the only place he has known since that fateful day was the dirt floor of his house that is sandwiched to the side of the mountain that looks out over Cap-Haitian, Haiti. Sadly, Marcelin, his wife, and their children are global health statistics, and in fairness to the rest of us, sometimes it can be hard to remember that lives such as theirs are not statistics.

Marcelin is unable to do anything for himself or his family - yet. When our friends found him on the floor of his house, confined to a dirty, disintegrating mattress, they were moved to action. A quick trip to the market changed the immediate situation, but Marcelin and his wife needed more. They needed help to build a future for their family and it was here that life began to take on hope. A small financial gift from a Canadian friend helped Marcelin’s wife to start a small business to provide for their family. A sponsored trip down the mountain to the closest hospital helped give Marcelin access to medical care, therapy and medications. Over the past few months, he is starting to feel the return of feeling in his legs and doctors are hopeful that he may one day be mobile. Now, with the help of a Hero Holiday group from Canada that is arriving next week, Marcelin’s kids are going to have a school to go to in the coming months. Hope showed up at his door, and hope is what is going to change his family’s future.

If you look at the numbers, in Marcelin’s world, it is pretty easy to think you understand: 1 in 2 people in Haiti live on less than a dollar a day, 40% of Haiti doesn’t have access to basic health care, and 80% of Haitians are unemployed. But if you look at Marcelin’s world with the possibilities of hope, the story is very different. The numbers stay the same, but hope is the wild card in the equation. Hope allows for all things to be possible, and for people like Marcelin to not give up.

I used to think that hope was a feeling, a good wish or even a desperate emotional appeal. Sometimes it can be unrealistic and sometimes it can be almost nonexistent. But hope is more than these things - hope is about recognizing today’s reality in light of tomorrow’s possibilities. And as long as you have hope you have enough to hang on to for today.

Next week, Absolute is going to be in Cap-Haitian, Haiti, building a school near to where Marcelin lives. Schools change lives and communities because they provide an opportunity for a future that did not exist before. A school may be the result of the Hero Holiday participants’ work in Haiti, but the full effect of what they are going to do is going to echo in years to come. Their lives are changing things in Haiti, but when they return home, Haiti is going to change them.

Absolute exists because of hope. You can join us! To find out more about how to get involved financially, how to be a part of a Hero Holiday, or how to have us in your community, check out www.absolute.org.

Sometimes you miss the boat completely. Sometimes you screw up everything so badly that you are convinced there is no turning back. Sometimes you wish you didn’t need to ever get out of bed again. And sometimes, you realize that maybe you are somehow making a difference. And sometimes you have moments when you realize that it is totally worth it.

I was a massive baby. I was one ounce shy of 10 pounds, my mom was a teenager and I am sure she was probably feeling like she did not bargain for this. But there have been times when she has talked about how much pain giving birth was and then she said it is like you can’t even remember it once you see that baby and you realize that it is worth it all. Sometimes, that is what following through on a dream can be like.

The first year we ever did Hero Holiday in Absolute was a wilder year than we could have ever imagined. We were in the middle of trying to relocate our organization to another city, we were in the middle of a massive building project for our headquarters because we were desperate to have a place to work out of that was suitable, and we were always facing a new financial challenge every minute of every day as a small charity. We did a lot of things wrong, did a lot of things right, had a lot of amazing people around us that supported our passion for change, and managed to frustrate others who couldn’t go there with us. But I will never forget what happened at the very first school in Canada that we talked about Hero Holiday in.

We were in North Bay, Ontario, and in the middle of our high school presentation we stepped out and invited the students to join us for something that we believed could change their lives; something that we believed could change the future of our nation. We invited them to consider investing in helping others through humanitarian work and joining us in the Dominican Republic to build some houses for people that were desperate for adequate shelter for their families. At the end of that presentation, our team stood back, awed by what we saw: hundreds of students lining up to sign up their name for more information on how to get involved with Hero Holiday. It was the point of no return. We were in it to win it.

Somewhere along the road that year in Canada, we were at an event that Rana attended. We stood on that stage and challenged the students to consider joining us on our first ever Hero Holiday. As we finished the presentation, Rana turned to her friend beside her and said, “I am going to join those people.” And she did. That summer as she was a part of our Hero Holiday teams in Dominican Republic, Rana had the chance to work alongside of one of our doctors and learn about all the possibilities that exist with providing health care in the developing world. That year she went into university, with the intention of getting into Med School.

It took Rana a while to get into Med School. She was turned down by many, and had to continually push to write more tests and conduct more interviews. But this last month, I had the privilege of being the first person that Rana told about getting accepted into Med School for this coming school year. I was so proud. And as I hugged her and told her how excited I was for her, she said, “I am doing this because of what happened in my life with Hero Holiday. You guys gave me the chance to realize what I can do to make a difference, and it is because of that that I am going into Med School now. It inspired me to want to be a doctor in the developing world.

As I type these words, I am reminded of all of the Ranas in the world: so full of potential and wanting to make their mark on history. And when you get the chance to see it happen, it is always worth it. You are going to make a great doctor, Rana.

For all of you Ranas out there, the ones who know that if they are just willing to hang on to what they believe they can do, on behalf of all of us in Absolute, I want to say thanks. You make it worth it for us - all the time.

Hero Holiday has changed our lives because each of us has realized that we can be a part of something incredible. To find out more about Hero Holiday and all that we do in Absolute, check out www.absolute.org.

“History will be kind to me, for I intend to write it.” ~ Winston Churchill

Mason is a normal, nice guy - kind of like the guy next door in suburban Canada. But he is different from that guy in many ways, and in his own words, Mason has been blessed and gifted. So when the opportunity came to be on a Hero Holiday when he was in Grade 9, his only thoughts were, “Bring it on!”

Mason wasn’t a troubled kid, nor was he depressed or suicidal. He just didn’t realize how much the experience was going to turn his life upside down and begin to shape his perspective for good.

The first time I went and worked in Mexico I was dumbfounded and awestruck that a nation in which my family unloads so much material wealth into recreationally, in reality is starving just for our leftovers.
Society plagues the youth of today into thinking that material gain and social status is the fundamental foundation to providing a long, happy life. But society’s vision is skewed. Prior to the experiences that Absolute provided me I was lost. I was living in a world that seemed sheltering and almost imprisoning. My life was good - do not get me wrong. I have a solid family, amazing friends and a promising future. But there is more to life than the basics.
I felt as though a huge component of my life was torn from me; as if some gaping hole had formed in my contentment that I did not know how to fill. I couldn’t ever quite describe the feeling I felt, and this only applies to me personally; not the general public, but I now realize that feeling was more like meaninglessness. I felt as though my life held no purpose and provided no change for the world. I felt as though no matter what I did, my life would not make a difference. Again it is a hard concept to explain, and to the recipients of this they might think I was depressed but this is not true.
The trips I have gone on with Hero Holiday have essentially lifted the shadowy veil of reality and have shown me aspects of my own world I had only previously seen on television or in newspapers.
The kids I’ve played with, the fathers I’ve built homes for, the communities I’ve built schools for all have changed because of it. They are grateful and truly appreciate the gifts we have provided them with. This is one of the small facts that makes me allow myself a smile. I was a student who had just finished grade nine at a local Junior High. I used my parents’ money for my first trip, but once my eyes were opened I understood that in order for my change to matter I had to earn the right to help these people. For me to even begin to feel worthy of helping them I had to earn it. I worked for every single cent that I put into these trips and brought the leftover money with the intention of donating it for the last three years.

Last summer, on his third Hero Holiday Mason suddenly became very sick and was hospitalized. The reason? He didn’t drink enough water during the work day and the lack of hydration caused a freak dip in his immune system that was dangerous. However, thanks to the great doctors at the hospital in the community and with the help of our staff, he was back after a couple of days. The sickness gave him a chance to see life from a different perspective, as he contemplated what it means to be able to have access to health care, clean water, even a clean and safe place to rest.

But the best possible thing from his sickness happened to him when he got back to the house build and saw the family that they were working for: he realized how much his help meant to them.

I walked in the house and immediately the mother had started to cry. She wrapped her arms around me and I could feel her appreciation with every shake and every harsh sobbing breath she took in. She then showed me a drawing her daughter had made.
Her daughter had been with me every day that I worked in that hole that I had been digging for their outhouse. She had ‘helped’ me dig (though usually she ended up pushing more dirt into my half-dug outhouse hole) and she made me smile and feel as though the project was worth doing. She was only about six or seven, and would clumsily walk hand in hand with me whenever I visited the water cooler or other students. She provided me with motivation to keep swinging the pickaxe into the devastatingly hard clay even when I thought my muscles would burst from exertion. Anyways, her mother showed me a drawing that the little girl had made while I was in the hospital. Apparently they had heard that I was hospitalized because I worked too hard and they understood it was serious. The drawing was of her and her family holding hands in front of a brand new house. They were unskillfully drawn stick figures but the picture was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. Her family and her stood happily in front of their home and I was drawn above them… with a Halo and angel wings.

Mason’s story isn’t really about how good it feels to help someone, although that is true. It isn’t a life lesson about staying well-hydrated, although we really do insist on that. It’s about friendship. When you cross over from seeing people as needing your help to seeing them as your friends and part of your life, that’s where your life is changed. We live our lives in relationships, and a true friend is one who loves people where they are at and believes in them, no matter what.

To find out more about Hero Holiday Mexico and how you can get involved, check out absolute.org. You belong here!

Have you ever met a chicken that hated it’s life? Me neither. But, I have definitely met a lot of chickens that, if I were them, I would hate my life. What is there to love about being a chicken if you live in the developing world? You spend all day dodging traffic, trying to find food for your chicks, hoping that your number hasn’t been called.

The first time we ever walked through that village in Dominican Republic, I remember trying to process what was going on around me - but there was too much. Vaden and I were there on vacation, to be honest. We had worked hard traveling all year with our road teams, and now that school tours were done for the year, we found a cheap deal to escape to the Caribbean sun for a week, completely oblivious to what we were about to encounter. But life in paradise was proving to be boring and after the third day we were tired of looking at the same drunk, sunburned people around our resort pool. We needed out. It was at that point that we remembered that we actually had friends in Dominican Republic who were missionaries in the local area. Why not give them a call and see what they do? As their little white pickup pulled up to the door of our resort, our lives were about to be rocked and we were completely oblivious.

An innocent question changed the future of Absolute, and consequently, our own lives: “Would you like to see a little bit of the real Dominican Republic?”

It was a 7 minute drive from our resort gate to the entrance to that village. I got out of the truck and began to walk among the homes and families that lived there. Wide smiles, kind eyes, endless calls of “hola!” greeted us - all of them in the midst of, what was for me at that time, the biggest concentration of poverty I had been exposed to. I will never forget that day: the smells, the sounds, the collision of realities. All of it is etched in my mind because it is where my life changed - for the better. And when I met that lady, the deal was sealed.

We sat on the hard dirt floor of her tiny house - not even the size of my kitchen - and she began to show me what life was like from her perspective. She told me of how the rats nibbled on her children’s fingers if she didn’t have all 5 of them on the one saggy, dirty bed at night, how her house flooded every rainy season because of the deforestation behind her on the hill, of how hard it was to be a single mother, and of how scary it is to be in a country that is not her home and where neither her nor her children have identity papers. She taught me about life that afternoon on that dirt floor.

As we left her house and walked back through the village, a tiny, fluffy chick raced in front of my feet. A little boy’s laughter followed behind it, as he raced to pick it up and play with it (much to the little chicken’s angst!). As I watched that little chick and all the other scrawny chickens that were wandering around that tiny street, I couldn’t help but laugh and say, “Now I get it! He really is just trying to get to the other side!”

At the end of the day our friends dropped us back at our resort, and I walked back through the resort, past the same drunk and sunburned people. But I was changed. My heart was broken and my sense of justice was enraged by what I had experienced. As I sat on the floor of our hotel room and cried, I came to the conclusion that tears are not enough. Tears won’t change lives, and tears won’t help fight back at poverty. But people can, and there was a reason why Absolute had such a huge influence in Canadian high schools. That influence could be used to write history.

Exactly 14 months later, Absolute returned to Dominican Republic with our first Hero Holiday group of 180 people. Together we built safe housing, dug trenches for fresh, clean water to be delivered to a village, met people we would never forget, and had our lives imprinted forever by the experience. We have never looked back.

To date, Absolute has taken over 2500 people on Hero Holidays to Dominican Republic, Mexico, Thailand and Haiti. We do this because of one reason: we believe in the potential of this generation to change the world and we want to give them the opportunity to prove it.

You can be a part of what we do! To find out more about Hero Holiday, check out www.heroholiday.com.

She has a way of making you instantly trust her. Her friends would describe her as consistent, loyal, and most of all, compassionate. Her laughter erupts when you least expect it and she is always quick to lend a hand in absolutely any way possible. She is Italian, loves pasta, panettone, and stilettos and she has worn just about every hat in Absolute. Her real name is Diane, but to all of us in Absolute, she is known as Dee.

Success in life is often measured by very “predictable” metrics: money, career, family size, and making sure that which concerns you is ok. But those rules don’t apply to all of us. Some social rules were made to be broken, and Dee is proof that it is possible.

We first met her in 2002, she was 18 at the time, and even then she was someone whom we recognized as being passionate and ready for a challenge. She started working with Absolute the following year, and has been with us full-time ever since that day. But Dee’s idea of working full-time is very different from what many of us may consider. Work isn’t about a pay cheque to her - it is about a passion. It’s about knowing where you belong, and doing whatever it takes to continue to do it with focus and determination.

In the world in which we work in Absolute, life changes quickly. High schools are an environment where in any given moment, you can be among an incredibly diverse group of people: from ethnicity to physical abilities to emotional or psychological stability, there are no two teenagers alike. It is a tenuous world and we walk into it every day. But that same diversity and fragility is why we believe so much in what we do in Absolute: someone took the time to believe in each of us and now we have the privilege to do the same. This is basically Dee’s motto in life: love the world and be a part of something significant.

Whenever someone asks Dee what she does, she never talks about the daily tedium of working in the office, never lists off all of the places that she has traveled with Absolute through Hero Holiday or on one of our road teams. Instead, I have always heard her talk about why she does what she does: she believes that a vision this big needs many dedicated people to make it happen and she is one of them. And she is right.

Success may mean a big house, a lot of attention and fanfare, and having many leather-bound books (thank you, Anchorman!) but in reality, for there to be any change that happens today to make tomorrow safer and better, success is also about dedication, passion and focus. It can look like many different people, and Dee is one of those people.

For all the Dee’s out there, this is our letter of thanks. People like you are not only what makes the world a better place - you are the ones who largely help to make it happen. Your willingness to be a part of something that is bigger than you makes you a hero. And though the world may not yet know your name, your imprint is left on lives and hearts all over the world. Thank you.

Our programs in Absolute are made up of many significant people like Diane: from our staff to our volunteers to our Hero Holiday participants, each of them are heroes because they are choosing to do what they can to make a difference where they see it is needed most. To find out more about how to get involved in what we do, check out www.absolute.org

“Success is not the key to happiness. Happiness is the key to success. If you love what you are doing, you will be successful.” ~ Herman Cain