On July 20, 1969, as the moon rode high in the sky, a man stepped out of his spaceship and walked on it. Astronaut Neil Armstrong and fellow crew members, Michael Collins and Buzz Aldrin changed the timeline of history that day, inspiring generations.
On the same date, a twelve-year-old girl rode high atop a pale horse. Bareback. She’d felt strange and achy all day, but decided to ride anyway. Barely half a mile down the road, she felt discomfort, fear, then embarrassment. The horse sensed the change, reared high and galloped home. The girl barely managed to stay on.
A dot, and not a small one, added itself to her own timeline that day, forever changing her own history. But no one told her, at least not then, that what she’d experienced was designed by God to bring about something beautiful in the right time. Something that would allow her the incomparable joy of bearing children and then grandchildren.
She learned to be grateful for that awkward gift of womanhood. But for the next four decades, Dot’s monthly visits remained painful, awkward, and dreaded. They affected every aspect of life, from wardrobe choices to activity and social choices – in spite of the many products available for women’s hygiene here in the West, and the blessing of funds with which to purchase them.
I was that girl. My memories are why I ache for girls around the world who don’t have what’s needed to make Dot’s visits endurable. In many countries, the monthly female cycle equals ostracism. Girls in the poorest countries miss an average of two months of school each year because they have no assistance or education or supplies when Dot comes calling. Many are forced to sit on cardboard boxes until they are “clean” again.
Talking about such things is taboo in those countries. And because they can’t, I will.
I planned to buy myself a sapphire ring for my sixtieth birthday this September. I’ve never had a sapphire. But the more I shopped online, the more uncomfortable I felt. One day, the Holy Spirit nudged me to a magazine, where I opened to an article about an organization that changes the future for girls like those I’ve described. Adolescent girls skipping school to sit on cardboard, some of them abused by men who offer free sanitary supplies in exchange for sexual favours.
Days for Girls International designed hygiene kits for girls like that. Each one lasts three years, and is sewn and assembled by volunteers, then donated to people and organizations for delivery where most needed.
This then, is my sapphire, my Sweet Sixty project: to gather a bunch of friends and put together sixty kits that will change lives and communities for generations.
Armstrong’s walk on the moon changed the world’s history. But for sixty young women I’ll never know, this will matter more. As I gather supplies and girlfriends, I can’t stop smiling. If you’d like to help, contact me at [email protected]
