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One night I sat at a bar across from a very nice young man. “What high school did you go to?” he asked. I replied with a very confident “Mount de Sales Academy” and followed with, in a single exhaling breath, “that all girls Catholic school.” I met his stare with one of my own, right at the Star of David hanging around his neck. And with intrigued eyes that seemed a little too excited, he replied, “Did you wear a uniform?” Funny, I usually lose people at “all girls.”
With poverty affecting about 40 million Americans, many women struggle to make ends meet. That means a $10 box of pads each month for their periods or a $25 bra that fits properly can become a luxury. But 42-year-old Maryland mom Dana Marlowe is making sure women get what they need for free. “We’re giving women dignity. And that’s it, pure and simple,” said Marlowe. To date, she has distributed more than 3 million bras and menstrual products around the globe.
Kyler Nipper looks at his collections of shoes — hundreds of sneakers, sandals and slip-ons — with pride. At 14, he never thought he'd have this many kicks. He’s the founder of the nonprofit Kyler's Kicks at home in Las Vegas, where he organizes new and used shoes, scrubs them clean and assures they get to people in need in his community. "It makes me feel better that I give away shoes, because I have been through it," he said. "It made me make sure that what happened to me wasn't happening to anybody else." And what happened to him ... nearly killed him.
When I was a kid I wanted to be a marine biologist. But it all came to an end when I was 13 years old. To this day I’m still not sure what, if anything, I actually saw circling my feet in the surf. The fear still scarred me though, deeper than any shark bite could. I broke up with the ocean, and this separation followed me into college. That is until my first winter break when I traveled abroad for the very first time. I found myself in the Caribbean, face-to-face with a wild beast.
“You’re so quiet. Are you OK?” Her eyebrows furrowed. “Yes, I’m just traveling alone. Taking a solo trip," I said. “You came to Hawaii by yourself? Well,” she said, patting my hand, kind of like how my mom would when I was a kid. “You can walk with me and my husband.” I looked past her at the husband. He returned my gaze with a sympathetic smile. His wife had clearly done this before.
Suddenly, she opened her eyes. And everything… stopped. Her eyes rolled around a little bit at first, but she eventually found me. And I looked back, deep into her small, beautiful eyes. She looked at me but could only see a stranger. I looked at her and could see everything she is and would become. I had known what it was to love. But I didn’t know what it was to truly, irrevocably, and unconditionally love another person, especially a kid. And I had no idea that it was possible to truly, irrevocably, and unconditionally love a kid who wasn’t even yours.
When I was a kid I wanted to be a marine biologist. After growing up in Ocean City, Maryland, the sea was so mysterious and beautiful. I’d hop out of bed at 6 a.m. to play on the sand bar at low tide and loved studying the waves, horseshoe crabs, and occasional jellyfish. And then fast forward one “Jaws” movie and one Bethany Hamilton shark attack memoir later, and my oceanic romance had faded. It all came to an official end when I was 13 years old, wading in the surf with my family in Ocean City.
“That was beautiful. Wasn’t it beautiful everybody?” the DJ said with great enthusiasm after the best man's speech. Yes, I thought. But let’s get this over with. I got raspberry cake to eat. “And now, up next. Let’s hear from the maid of honor, the only sister of the bride… Liz!” Oh crap… I thought, choking on the champaign. I knew I forgot something. The DJ was closing in on me, and I began to sweat. My head snapped over to the right, where Catherine was already staring back at me, her big brown eyes still glassy from the previous speeches. My cheeks became hot.