Wings

It was an idyllic Spring Saturday this weekend so my son and I met my wife and our two girls at one of the many parks here in St. Louis, Missouri after his golf lesson. A child's birthday party was bustling beneath a decorated pergola, the smell of charcoal briquettes wafted from the cheap municipal grill and kids were running amuck without a single care for social distance - honestly, I didn't much care either and the grill smelled like my childhood.

The park was adjacent to a brand new Barnes Jewish hospital in what seemed like its final days before officially opening to hero's and patients alike. I was unsuccessfully chasing geese with one of my Princesses - it's nice, however, that geese accommodate by strutting relatively unfazed by the wingless pigtailed monster trying to disrupt their pecking with giggles and outreached arms; only until you breach their "ring of comfort", that is. As they took flight to find refuge in the large pond that laid ahead, it brought into view a stunning building along the water's edge complete with carefully crafted and well furnished decks - seemed like a 5-star resort from where I was standing.  

My wife pointed to this very compound of design and function and asked, "do you know what that is, honey?" The next two words that came out of her mouth are the reason I nearly broke down next to that pond, and decided to post my thoughts here. "Pediatric hospice" she said softly. I had to let that sink in - pediatric hospice; what an unfair combination of the spoken word, and someone's painful reality - a combination I truly wished was never necessary. A place called Evelyn's House was built by those waters; and a program called Wings will soon take flight. I should note that neither my company, nor myself, has any affiliation with either entity and the genesis for this article is purely human.

I joined Insured Nomads in large part because of our social purpose - you see, whether we choose to believe it, or outright avoid the disgusting reality of our social underbelly, it changes not the fact that human children are bought, sold and exploited around the world. We humbly give 1% of our top line revenue to Not for Sale, whose aim is to both provide support for those unfortunate victims and stop human trafficking.

Processing the tough reality of a place like Evelyn's House was a reminder of our social purpose as a business, more over as a community. Yet another reminder for anyone listening during these unfair times to just give; because someone somewhere has it far worse than we do.