Unsung Heroes Dominate Awards Yet Again

The moment you’ve waited for all year long. My annual awards handed out to people who were inspirational, performed unselfish acts of kindness, or who just plain stood out in a positive manner. I call this my “Stroupe Thumbs Up Awards For People Who Deserve It.” You may notice I have changed the name of it every year, and each time it seems to be named something lamer than the year before. Nonetheless, there are plenty of candidates who stood out in 2008 so I’ll get right to it: LIFESAVERS- A group of concerned citizens/Good Samaritans came to the aid of an unconscious lady at Wal-Mart in Shelby who would have certainly died had they not been there and acted quickly. She was a stranger to these heroes but their concern for humanity outweighed any hesitation or discomfort they might have experienced. Nice going, folks. OBSTACLE HURDLER- You’ve probably never heard of Samia Yusef Omar of Somalia. She finished last in her track event at the 2008 Summer Olympics. But just to make it to the Olympics was her accomplishment. During her training in the streets of her village, she was threatened, harassed, and nearly killed by a bomb. She often had to run in a disguise and her nutritional intake consisted of flat bread, wheat porridge and tap water each day. Give the young lady a medal. LEGIONS OF HEROES- The local players performed great, the local coaches often outsmarted the competition, and the local community exhibited awesome support for the American Legion Regionals and World Series in 2008. A tip of the cap to everyone on the committee, especially its leaders- Eddie Holbrook and Jim Horne. STARS AMONG US- Speaking of the Legion games, I was able to catch most of them. There were some unbelievable renditions of the National Anthem, but few among us will ever forget youngsters Jordan Beaver and Emily Wilson’s performances. HONORABLE MENTIONS- A number of folks deserve mention here. The GWU college students who I was privileged to lead on a mission trip in October and the middle school and high school kids I hooked up with on a similar trip this summer. Also, the guy driving the truck behind me when my son’s truck bedliner came loose and catapulted itself onto the highway- because he saved himself from injury and me from having to increase my insurance payments when he swerved to avoid the flying object. And finally, somebody who instructed the waitress to pick up my check and paid for me and my kid’s meal one night at a local restaurant. Thanks, whoever you are. Grand prize winner for this year: (Drum roll, please) BRIDGES OVER TROUBLED WATERS- So what do you do when you find out you have cancer and your treatments will cause you to lose hair and make you feel sick? I don’t know but Springmore Elementary School teacher Jenny Bridges has sported a bandana and a huge smile every day since her ordeal began. It really makes anything I would have to complain about dull in comparison. What a tremendous real life lesson for those kids. And also for the rest of us. So there you have it. Thumbs up to all of you who have tried to brighten up another’s life in 2008. As always, I’ll be watching in 2009.

I keep hearing it over and over. It’s going to be a bad Christmas. Times are rough. Christmas will lack its usual joy. It has been one of the worst years in United States economic history, they say. And we will all pay the price for it this Christmas. So says my television. Let me be clear. I am sympathetic to those who have lost their jobs. I feel for those who are the victims of cutbacks. And I can only imagine the pain a parent would feel if he had to look a child in the eye and explain why Santa’s helpers weren’t able to make as many toys this year. Heartbreaking. But I won’t buy into this gloom and doom Christmas routine we’re being sold. It seems that the success or failure of the holiday season rests on the shoulders of us, the consumer public. When we spend and spend and spend some more, TV economists are happy. We’ll have a good Christmas and the world will be saved. But if we cut back a little, choosing to become more introspective and less materialistic, we have failed our nation. By spending less, we are being called holiday grinches. Meanwhile, irresponsible execs at large corporations beg for taxpayer money and tell us the only way they can survive is if Uncle Sam gives them money now and we order more stuff from their company warehouses. I don’t get it. Americans lined up at 5 a.m. and spent 2% more this year on Black Friday- the day after Thanksgiving- than we did last year. But one expert claimed we failed miserably because we needed to spend 4.5% more to save Christmas. One poor Wal-Mart worker was even trampled to death in New York but still we were told we weren’t aggressive enough in our spending. They even commercialized and promoted Cyber Monday- the fourth day after Thanksgiving- when online sales tend to peak. But they say we didn’t click the “Check Out to Complete Purchase” button enough that day either. Most every Christmas television special ever produced reminds us that Christmas is not about the presents and gifts. Spend less but give more. Remind yourself what you are truly thankful for. But then the voices on the news tell us we have failed to save the economy because we aren’t spending enough. Is anyone other than me agitated by the paradox here? I’m not upset at the merchants. I love the stores, the mall, and the displays. I could listen to Christmas music all year long. But I’m put out with however it is that tries to make us feel guilty when we don’t go in debt to check off all the names on our Christmas list. So what happens in that magical year in the future when we do spend enough? “You did it!” the TV economists will cry. “You saved Christmas!” And the jingle in the pocket will have then replaced the babe in the manger. We will have spent big but missed the message yet again. The national treasury will be saved but the most valuable Christmas treasure will be lost. And though the manger song says “No crying He makes,” the babe’s eye might fill with a tear. By God’s grace I pray we will never let that happen.

Daraja Kids Sing and Dance Their Way Into Our Hearts

The moment they came bouncing into the sanctuary and began their rhythmic clapping I was fascinated. The Daraja Children’s Choir- hailing from the most underdeveloped areas of Kenya- visited and performed at my church recently, and they certainly didn’t disappoint. Their voices were heavenly and their praises sincere. They sang, danced, clapped, whirled and twirled. I don’t think God would mind me saying they rocked the house. In a holy manner, of course. Each of them at some point made their way to the microphone, introducing themselves and reciting their favorite Bible verse and its importance to them. When they exited the same door they entered, I looked at my watch in amazement. The hour had flown by and I wanted more. I would get more. My wife and I agreed to serve as a host family for some of the children. We were joined that evening by an American adult chaperone and two of the Daraja Choir boys. We were told in advance they would eat anything, wouldn’t care for television or video games, and would possibly jump up and down on the bed to test out the springs- a luxury they couldn’t experience back home. Except for the bouncing on the beds, Rodney and Spencer followed none of the predicted behaviors. They ate some popcorn, but they didn’t care much for the apples and caramel dip we offered them the night they stayed. Nor were they excited about the chocolate chip cookies that normally melt in the mouths of sweet-toothed kids. They were extremely polite with their refusals, and you couldn’t help but wish American kids were as mannerly and as willing to deny themselves sugar. They loved the Wii games in our playroom. Especially bowling. Then it was upstairs for Nascar racing on Playstation II. Spencer even admitted that his favorite host houses were the ones with Guitar Hero. “I love that song Slow Ride,” he proudly stated, “You know, the one that says to take it easy.” Until then I had felt a little guilty that maybe we were negatively influencing these precious children. But then I realized they like to have good, clean fun just like my own kids. Guitar Hero notwithstanding. Rodney and Spencer hugged my kids goodbye the next morning. In a few short hours they had touched our hearts. We returned them to the church and watched as they posed for pictures around the Christmas tree. Every one of the 23 choir members gave me an unconditional hug goodbye before heading outside. Their bus was a former Greyhound passenger type that leaked antifreeze all over the church parking lot. They couldn’t run the heater so the kids all bundled up in blankets and crammed in next to each other, prepared to enjoy the hour and a half ride to the next destination. They waved and smiled ear to ear as the bus exited the parking lot- and I couldn’t help but wonder where the roads of life would lead these marvelous creations of God. Despite the chill of a cold morning, a warm feeling engulfed me as they drove out of sight. The Daraja kids had all they needed to be joyful in life. They sing the praises of their Savior daily and when life is cold, they huddle together for warmth. They’ll be just fine.

Is a Tool Bag Really Worth That Much?

No one can hear you scream in space, claims the 1979 movie Alien. So instead of screaming, astronaut Heidemarie Stefanyshyn-Piper sarcastically whispered “Oh, great” when the tool bag she was in charge of floated out into the great unknown of outer space.

Maybe she was distracted. After all, the crew she belongs to is visiting the space station and serving as the guinea pig for a new invention that converts sweat and urine into drinking water. Which is why I never wanted to be an astronaut.

And you know the male astronauts are going to poke fun at her and smirk, saying things like, “If it’d been her curling iron, she’d have hung on to it.”

In the past, astronauts have “misplaced” such items as bolts, springs, washers, and a 14-inch spatula. How a spatula got outside the craft I don’t know. And why astronauts would have one beats me since anything you flip up in space probably won’t come back down.

Regardless, an uproar concerning the current floating tool bag has ensued. It contains two grease guns, a putty knife, cloth mitts, a large trash bag, and a small debris bag. And apparently the collective worth of these items including the bag is $100,000.

What? Somebody obviously didn’t clip coupons or check the sale inserts in the newspaper. I could haul in all that stuff in one trip to Big Lots for less than 15 bucks, tax included. For some perplexing reason, Uncle Sam shopped elsewhere.

My first thought is why the other astronauts couldn’t just tie a cord to Heidemarie’s ankle and let her float out there and retrieve the little varmit. Fine and decent Americans have done much stranger things than that for $100,000. And the bag will never make its way back to earth, according to an expert who stated: “Although we have not yet conducted a detailed reentry survivability analysis for the tool bag and its contents, it is highly likely that no components will reach the surface of the Earth.” (I think he was saying it’s going to burn up.)

My next thought is what all could be stowing away in the little bag. Maybe if it were opened, they would discover one of these items that might be worth $100,000:

1. Gold lining.
2. A check for the second place finisher on the reality TV show “Survivor.”
3. All those sealed government documents explaining the JFK assassination.
4. One of those Nestle’s 100 Grand chocolate bars that used to be called the Hundred Thousand Dollar Bar when I was growing up.
5. A stock purchased in 2007 for 10 million dollars.
6. A ten-second video of Brad Pitt’s and Angelina Jolie’s baby.
7. All those sealed government documents explaining the UFOs in Area 52 of Roswell, New Mexico.
8. A piece of moon rock autographed by Neil Armstrong.
9. My family picture. (Okay, that’s only valuable to me, but you get the point.)

Alas, you should fear not, my fellow Americans. If you own a telescope or a pair of better than average binoculars, you can witness our little vagrant tool bag in the heavenly realm at it streaks through the evening sky. Or you can just watch it on YouTube. Either way, the experience is priceless. Though it’s costing us all $100,000.