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I have to admit there are a lot more kids here at the charity event than I thought there would be. After they'd eaten their dinner of pizza and carrot sticks in the library, they entered the tents with all the guests. We finish up dinner while the kids all sit up on a stage waiting for their portion of the evening to begin. As the staff takes our plates, Natalie leaves our table to take the stage. Luckily, we didn’t have to sit with Nathan’s father or my mother. It seems Nathan purchased an entire table for just Natalie, the girls, and us. They seem to have made a lot of new friends throughout the night. I made sure to get the numbers of their foster parents so the girls could have play dates with them.

“Excuse me,” Natalie begins. “I wanted to first tell you that I’m honored you took the time out of your busy night to help with a foundation that is close to my heart. Many years ago, my grandmother opened her home to a foster child. This was a time when children weren’t always taken care of. Many of them ended up on the street without parents to watch over them. My mother was around four years old when they brought a little boy by the name of Nathan into their home.” I looked over at Nathan and took his hand.

“Nathan was eight at the time. She was in awe of this boy from the very beginning. He showed her how much fun it was to make mud pies and how worms weren’t gross but nature’s toys. Nathan was her companion, and for all intents and purposes, her brother. He was her protector from the mean kids at school, and he was the chaser of the monsters that lurked under her bed. For three years, Nathan was her hero. His time with her was cut short; too short. He was killed in a horseback riding accident, here on the property.” Tears instantly sprang to my eyes.

“He was out riding with his instructor when the horse became spooked and took off. By the time the instructor found him, it was too late. The horse had bucked him off and trampled him, crushing his body.” She takes a moment to gather her thoughts.

“Sorry, that story never gets any easier. The loss to my mother was great. At the age of seven, she'd lost her best friend, her brother. My grandmother took it upon herself to adopt Nathan after his death and gave him the Whitmore name. Unfortunately, my grandmother never took in another foster child into her home after that. The loss of Nathan was too much for her to bear, and the fear that it may happen again was too great. She did continue to donate and do what she could monetarily. Once she took over Whitmore Enterprises, she started the foundation that we celebrate tonight. The Nathaniel Douglas Whitmore Foundation was built out of the love of a child, for the love of the children of this city. It was built to help those children in need.

There are many families out there in New York, who have the love in their hearts to help these kids, but they may not have the money in their pockets. It’s up to us to help those who are not able to help themselves. To show the act of humility and hopefully teach these kids that they can make a difference once they blossom into adulthood. I’m not asking you to open your homes, but I am asking you to open your wallets. Winter is coming and the holiday season is right around the corner. Please allow these kids to have a little something of what you so easily give to your own. Please continue to bid at the silent auction located in the other tent. Now, sit back enjoy your dessert and listen to some testimonials from the children whom have benefited from your generosity.” Natalie takes a step back and a girl probably around the age of eleven takes the microphone.

“Wow, Nathan. I had no idea, what a tragic story. I’m so sorry your mother had to go through that at such a young age.”

“Nathan was special to her. She would never get tired of telling the stories of their adventures.”

“He must have meant a lot to her, seeing you were named after him.”

I’m honored my mother felt I could live up to the hero that was her brother. It’s funny because there were many times when I did something as a child that reminded her of Nathan. My mannerisms, even some of the sayings I would come up with as a child.”

“Wow, that’s amazing.”

“Mama, can we go play with the girlth?”

I look up and see the kids still sitting on the stage waiting while the older kids speak. “Hold on a minute, ladies. I want you to listen to what these kids have to say. It’s important.”

The girls sit back in their seats, drinking their water, listening to the kids. It seems as though each child had a unique story to tell as to how they ended up in ‘the system’, as they like to put it. There were tragic accidents that left them orphaned; unwilling parents abandoned some, while other parents chose a life of drugs and partying over the responsibilities of becoming a parent. It was the stories of child abuse and molestation, which hit home the most. Knowing that there were parents out there who physically hurt their children saddened me the most. I thought it was awful suffering from the nasty end of my mother’s tongue, I couldn’t imagine feeling the pain of a slap or a punch. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard such tragic and awful stories.”

“It’s unnerving to know that not every child goes to sleep at night with their parents tucking them in, huh? You would be devastated if you saw how other kids around the world lived. You think those commercials about helping children in the third world countries are tough? You should try seeing it in real life.”

“I could only imagine. No, I don’t want to imagine, Nathan. These kids tonight are so strong. Stronger than I think I’ll ever be.”

“They have to be, love. They don’t have any other choice. Most of them haven’t even had the opportunity to have a normal childhood. They move from home to home never being able to finish a school year. There are only a small few who are able to stay in a home permanently. A lot of these kids have major issues with trust and why wouldn’t they? They have been let down and abandoned by those who are supposed to be there for them always; their foundation. Once that foundation is gone, it isn’t long before the children crumble.”

“I think I want to do something about it. No, I do. I want to help. Somehow I want to help make a difference. It’s so wrong for all these kids to have to suffer at the hands of selfish parents.”

“What were you thinking?”

“I don’t know yet, but once I figure it out, I’ll let you know.”

We listen while the kids finish up their stories. A few adults who grew up in the foster system also share their experiences. It isn’t all positive, as I had hoped. Some of the stories are ones of addiction, homelessness, and suffering. Listening to the more desperate accounts, it was then I decided I wanted to help change that. Somehow I was going to do it; I was going to make a difference.

I stand near the tree house and watch the girls play. Amanda is climbing while Addie and another little girl play with dolls. Nathan is talking to a few men who I have learned are clients of Whitmore Assets. “The girls look lovely, Laney.”

“Thank you, Mother. They really do, don’t they?”

“How are they settling in with Nathan?”

“You would never know it’s only been a week. Those three are thick as thieves. It’s nice being able to just run and know the girls are safe at home.”

“The girls have always been safe, and you have always been able to do what you have needed to do.”

“I know that. But Brad has a life of his own. His life is no longer our life. I know he’ll always be there for the girls, but I like knowing that I don’t have to make those arrangements or wait for someone’s schedule to open up. If I need to go, then I go. Nathan doesn’t question. Half the time I think the girls would rather I’m gone so they can have Nathan all to themselves.”

“Well, that’s nice. I’m glad they’re happy. I did worry about that.”

“Well, they are. There’s nothing to worry about.” I can’t believe we’re having a decent conversation; it’s about time. “That’s quite a story Natalie told. I had no idea the reasoning behind the foundation.”

“Paying attention to those who are your equals instead of keeping your head in a book all these years would have had its benefits. There is a world other than the world of healthcare. One, I might add, you're a part of. More so now than ever before.”