Big Heart for a Little Girl with a Mission

April 27, 2009

On Friday, April 3, 2009, a shooter walked into the American Civic Association and open fired- killing 13 victims taking an English class, before turning the gun on himself and taking his own life. It is obvious that everyone in Binghamton and even surrounding areas, along with other countries are mourning after the shooting that took place on that rainy Friday morning.

However, while some kids are not affected by this tragedy or some are more consumed with question on why, 10-year-old, Emily Miller of Cornell Ave in Binghamton was springing into action to put together a street-garage sale/fundraiser; the fundraiser to help the victim’s families.

Emily is just like any other 10-year-old girl. She attends school during the weekdays and church on the weekend. She likes to play with her friends and ride bikes as well. You see, Emily is not any different from anyone else who is her age, unless of course, you take the fact that she has a big heart for a little girl into consideration.

“I wanted to help the families. I am happy to do this, but I don’t want to be ‘proud.’ I am not doing this for me to be noticed,” Emily said.

And as much as everyone knows that, they still cannot help but throw her some words of their happiness. “This is a wonderful, self-less act that I cannot believe you have come up with,” said Debra Vincent of Binghamton.

Self-less is what made Emily be noticed, and not just by garage-salers and neighbors. Channel 12 WBNG TV stopped by on Friday April 17^th with their camera equipment and interviewed her for their 5:00 p.m. and 11:00 p.m. news that night. “They just stopped here and took some pictures and asked me some questions.” Emily said of the reporters.

“Remember we went to the funeral last week? This is for that,” A lady explained to her young daughter, speaking of Parveen Ali who was one of the victim’s on April 3 and whom she knew.

In the two days that Emily Miller and her family had set up their garage sale, Emily made $538.00 in just donations with help from a couple of people on the street with canisters as well. The money will be donated to the victim’s families this week which happens to be National Crime Victims Rights Week.

We’re Going for a Walk

This is a children's book I wrote.

We’re going for a walk; we’re going for a walk.

Walk, walk, walk and talk, talk, talk, and we’re going for a walk.

Walk around what do you see, sitting over there in that big old oak tree?

It’s an owl. He says “Woo woo.”

“Who? It’s me…”

Woo. “Me you silly.”

Walk around what is that sound, is there something over there on the ground?

It’s a squirrel. They gather nuts for the long winter ahead.

Help pick them up one by one,

Gather all the nuts until they are all gone.

Walk around what do you see, moving around in that tree?

Tweet tweet tweet, it’s a robin in her nest.

They sing all spring can we sing too?

“La la la la la.”

Walk around what is that, circling around… is it a cat?

Let’s walk over near the trunk,

Mommy grabs my hand and says, “No honey, it’s a skunk!”

Quickly run back into the house; let’s get out of here,

We will be safer by the window, my dear.

Here we sit watching that big old tree,

It was a nice adventure outside,

But I’d rather be in baking cookies with mommy.

An All-American Kind of Place

April 10, 2009

Sitting in a little bit from the road there is a long narrow building called “Danny’s Diner.” Run almost completely by women, the diner is well-known for its classic diner breakfasts still served on old-fashion hard plastic plates. Lately, the parking lot (which is bigger than the diner itself) has been pack every morning. And when one car pulls out, one is waiting to get in.

Established in 1970, this place that almost looks like an old train car is still holding strong here on Main St. in Binghamton, N.Y. Danny's Diner is what every Diner Lover could want. It harkens back to another era where decent homemade roadside food was the norm. But who can go wrong with a standard all-American delicious breakfast in a non-chain diner? It is all there with really good prices! There is French toast, eggs, pancakes, bacon, omelets and sausage all reasonable priced.

“It took me awhile to check this place out, shame on me. I am not big on diners - that is changing thanks to Danny's Diner,” A diner called, Mike said.

And I too must admit, I have drove past this place millions of times- as you can imagine, and never stopped in. I would just tell myself, “I really need to go there sometime.”

So for the five dollars in my pocket and the hunger starting to growl in my belly, I went in for a breakfast that cost just about five dollars exactly.

When a Community Comes Together

April 9, 2009

It was 5 p.m. on Sunday, two days after the shooting on Front Street at the American Civic Association in Binghamton, and there I was, just two blocks from the site. I was there to walk with a group to lay flowers in memory of those killed.

I sat in my seat waiting for instructions as to how my night would go. There were four things I was told I could choose from to help with that night in preparation for the vigil that was taking place on the following Wednesday night. I could either do some housekeeping — something I dreaded and did everyday anyway, so that was out of the question. I wanted to be involved in the community part of the evening too so I wasn’t planning on running a vacuum inside. I could greet and invite them to join in — this was where I would walk the downtown streets of Binghamton and either talk to people on the street or go door-to-door handing out little cards that tell the who, what, when, where and why information of the vigil. I could go on coffee runs — this tiny token of appreciation was where we all headed to the City Light Café on Washington Street and received numerous trays of coffee to take to the first responders and everyone who helped out on site at the ACA on Friday during the massacre. This included Wilson Hospital , Lourdes Hospital , the Broome County Sheriffs Office, the Binghamton , Endicott, Vestal, Johnson City , and Endwell Police and Fire personnel and the Endicott Bomb Squad. Or I could offer prayer — whomever felt like they could not contribute their time in any of the first three areas, were welcome to sit in the sanctuary and just pray until they couldn’t pray anymore for the victim, survivors, family, friends and all the people involved.

I weighed my options and it didn’t take me long to realize that coffee duty was my calling. But before I was to gather my troops (my cousin Sydney, Aunt Tammy, Sydney’s friend Elizabeth, my 2-year-old daughter, Tarrah, and my mom), we still all were getting ready to walk to the ACA to lay our flowers at the make-shift memorial. I, along with my mom were chosen to help handout the flowers so that every family had something to carry in the march. After that duty was fulfilled, all of the 200 or so people who showed up to volunteer made their way to Front Street.

I remember walking there, watching the traffic look at this big group holding flowers. None of us had any emotion yet; no tears were flowing until we reached the site. There, is where we were met by reporters and photographers. There were people there already. I assume they were Chinese and knew the victims in some sort. They were sobbing and chanting something in Chinese. We all stood as we prayed and then laid the flowers around the American Civic Association sign, and headed back to execute one the four options that we chose.

My group gathered our four trays of coffee (16 cups all together and two trays of creamer, sugar and stirring straws) and then headed to our location: Lourdes Hospital Emergency Room. I could hear myself rambling in my mind what I would say to the doctors and nurses. “Hi, my name is Ashley and I am from First…” “Hi, I am from First Assembly of God and we wanted to offer you these coffees and say thank you for everything you did to help out on Friday.” I didn’t have much time to figure it out; I had been walking to the doors at that very moment when I chose the last one tat played in my head.

When I walked out empty handed, I was happy. That joy of doing some good to help my community in this time if tragedy was amazing. Hearing from the employees of Lourdes that they didn’t expect that and that they were so happy to receive the coffee made me feel great that I did that.

© Copyright 2009 Ashley B. Vincent

SAHM: “What We Wanted to Do” Is on the List of “What We Do.”

March 6, 2009

I check up on the website www.parentsconnect.com daily. It is really helpful for parents- there are recipes and helpful tips for parents with kids of all ages. On the front page, there is always a new question of the day. I came across this question: “What did you want to be when you grew up? How different is it from what you're doing now?” on March 5, 2009. And I posted my usual response to the question- a reality response- “I always wanted to be what my mom was. Until I was in seventh grade and wanted to be a journalist up until the beginning of this year- right now I am a Stay-at-home-mom and I want to be a photographer!”

After I hit the submit button, I pondered the question through the day and realized that if given more than just a 200 character limit, I could have told them what I really think.

When I was little, I did want to be just like my mom. At the time, she was working at Kmart and I wanted to do that. I think that kids always want to be like their mommies or daddies at that age. But I remember wanting to be a whole range of things through my life. 1. Veterinarian 2. Doctor 3. Police Officer 4. Lawyer> Then as I thought about this simple question, I realized I am all four of these things and more. I am a vet when our cats are sick and an animal hospital vet when my daughter’s stuffed animals need some TLC or sewing up because their stuffing is coming out. I am a doctor when my daughter gets bumps and bruises. I police officer when I am enforcing the house rules; I am a lawyer because there is always an argument to settle. I am a professional singer and use my vocals every night to get her to sleep. I am a dancer and regularly dance to “This Little Light of Mine.” I am an author- I make up stories with my daughter. I am teacher- without me, she wouldn’t be learning. I am a chef, I cook all the meals.

This list can go on and I am pretty much everything there is to be. All wrapped up in a nice package called a Stay-at-home-mom.

A “Safety Blanket”

February 25, 2009

It all started when I was really young. I had a “safety blanket”, which didn’t seem to be a blanket at all. In fact it wasn't even a toy, a book, or anything that was material like at all. My safety blanket was my index and middle fingers on my right hand. I never sucked my thumb; instead I turned my hand with my palm facing the sky and stuck those two fingers in my mouth. This soothed me. I did not suck them; I just held them at the top of my mouth and rubbed my tongue on the back of them. Somehow, this gave me comfort. And for as long as I can remember I did that.

Every time I slept, they were there. My mom tried everything to make me stop. Her favorite way to try to get me to stop when I was younger was wrapping those two fingers to my ring finger and pinning a sock over my hand to my shirt. Somehow though, the sock came off and the tape was ripped off and by morning, there I was with my fingers in my mouth.

My biological son, Ethan had a “safety blanket” too. It was this bear that had a blanket attached to the body of it. Something my mom bought from Avon. He had one and his adoptive brother had one. But Ethan was attached to his. He would carry it everywhere his parents said. I saw him bring it church and he wouldn’t let it go.

For some reason, I liked it. I liked the fact that he had something he loved so much that he would rarely let out of his sight. And I wanted my daughter Tarrah to have something- a “safety blanket”- if you will. I have this habit of trying to make things happen: such as trying to find something to have Tarrah get attached to, just so that I could say someday that that was her “safety blanket.”

There was this rabbit that Tarrah got from Old Navy that I had her sleep with and tried my hardest to get her to attach to it. I asked her if she wanted to take it places and if she wanted to hold it at certain times. That plan fell through.

Then there was “The Icky Sticky Frog” book. Still is her favorite book, and she wants to take it to bed and grandma’s when she visits, but I still didn’t think that it was a “safety blanket” type of thing for her.

I think that at some point I just stopped trying to make a situation with these things. And now she REALLY has a “safety blanket.” Its name is Momo, a.k.a. Larry the Cucumber from Veggie Tales. Sure enough, this cucumber is her favorite thing of all time. Luckily, her Meemee (my mother) got her a stuffed Larry the Cucumber for Christmas, and now she cannot part with it. She watches Veggie Tales all the time holding her Momo. She got Veggie Tales fruit snacks and would not eat the Larry the Cucumber ones because if she did then he would have “a boo boo.” And that could never happen.

I guess it all worked out. My daughter is attached to something more than ever and she is learning about Jesus through it. So I am happy.

Proud…to be an…American?

January 30, 2009

They say that living in America is one of the best places. They say that we are the richest, strongest, freest and happiest country in the world. And not only do people say all this, they write songs about America like “Proud to be an American” by Lee Greenwood, or poetry about our glorious freedom like “For Freedom” by Bobby Garcia. America is well-know for its graciousness, the pathway to a better life awaits many immigrants here in America. Yet many of us true whole-heart Americans cannot even go day to day, barely surviving and hardly even affording to live here.

We have oil prices that drop but greedy gas companies that sucker us out of money with high gas prices. There are those that have honest hard working lifestyles that make less than $40,000 a year but mascots for an NBA basketball team that cannot show up for work like they are supposed to and lose their jobs that pay them $100,000 a year to jump around and make the crowds yell. The New York State Governor wants to put tax on sodas and says that it is to address the obesity problem when really it is just to take the hard working peoples money. We seriously think about having to home school our kids because sending them to a place where they can be sexual harassed by teachers or be video taped while being beaten up is more of an issue than our kids social lives.

Proud to be an American doesn’t seem so proud anymore. The Statue of Liberty states: “Give me your tired, your poor…” Well I guess they will make the poor even more poor by hustling us out of our money and make the working men and women even more tired by making them work more just to pay bills and buy food.

In the words of Lee Greenwood: “I’d thank my lucky stars, to be livin here today.” Well, I would thank my stars if America was truly the best place to live nowadays, but I wonder if that would be a lie.