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WE CAN ONLY DO
WHAT WE CAN |
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To avoid being morbid, I really try not to read obituaries. I
generally just glance at the date the deceased was born, hoping it's
earlier than mine, and move on. And, of course, I'll check the name to see
if it's someone I knew.
I occasionally pick one or two to read at random, though,
just out of curiosity. And quite often when I finish reading about
someone's life, I feel incredibly inadequate.
Such was the case last Sunday, when I randomly chose to read
about Olga Murray's life. She died on February 20th at the age of 98. I
never met her, but I wish I had. She's an inspiration to slugs like me.
We both did a lot of volunteer work. I coached Little League
baseball and high school basketball and tennis to middle-class kids. Olga
freed and educated approximately 13,000 Nepalese girls from a life of
slavery. Very similar accomplishments.
Olga was an amazing woman. Born in Romania, she immigrated to
the United States at the age of six. She then graduated in 1951 from law
school, one of the few women in her class, and then spent 37 years
clerking for California Supreme Court justices.
On a trek to Nepal in 1984 she fell in love with the Nepalese
children and dedicated the rest of her life to improving their condition.
She co-founded the Nepal Youth Foundation (NYF), which has helped fund the
education of over 50,000 children in Nepal.
She also created the "Indentured Daughters
Program," which began in 2000 when it was discovered that families in
an impoverished area of Nepal had a practice of selling their young
daughters into servitude. This had gone on for generations.
Olga stepped in. I'll quote the obituary: "The Nepal
Youth Foundation not only freed and educated nearly 13,000 girls, but also
brought a lawsuit up to the Supreme Court of Nepal, prompting the
government to outlaw and eradicate the practice."
Right about the time I was teaching Little Jimmy to hit a
curveball.
We can't all be Olga Murrays, obviously. And I don't mean to
disparage any type of volunteering. There's much to be said and admired
about coaching our youth. But we can all do so much more.
Some of us have the time to do volunteer work, some of us
don't. Some of us have the money to contribute, some of us don't. But all
of us have the capacity to do what we can.
I know I can do more, and people like Olga are just the
inspiration I need. She died knowing how she had made the world a better
place, how she had improved so many lives. How gratifying.
So many people need help. There's a woman near my office who
asks for help every day. She's in her 70's, with few teeth and an
over-abundance of facial hair. She plants herself on the same street
corner every morning, cup in hand.
But she's not exclusively a panhandler. She has artwork for sale,
small canvasses that she paints herself. I've never seen her sell one, but
at least she's trying, which I greatly admire. Her name is Barbara, and
we've become friends.
I support her as best I can and have for years. She's
incredibly appreciative, and it makes me feel good. Then I read about Olga
Murray and think how much more I could do for Barbara.
How much more I could do for so many people. But where do you draw
the line? Who knows what the future holds for you and your family? How
much to give away? How much to save for an uncertain future?
Everyone has their own answer. Olga devoted much of her life to
saving and educating Nepalese children. I devoted much of my life to
coaching middle-class kids. To each their own.
None of us, not even Olga, can save the world. All we can do is try
and save a little piece of it. I'll continue to do my best to help Barbara
and some other causes I support. My obituary won't be quite as altruistic
as Olga's, but it will have to do.
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