All right, I know it's early for Christmas but I thought that if we built up a real head of steam now we could have a special anti-Grinch Christmas in 2008.

Last week, someone sent us $25. Now, this was a real special $25, sent in by two young children whom I've never met) who had a yard sale. They sold their toys, made $25 and sent it to Quest. And that's what spiked it for me.

Of course, I am a complete fool over Christmas, always have been, always will be. A season of light in a dark part of the year. Except for some families there's not much light; mostly it's still dark. Maybe we can help change that.

Remember my poor family, I mean my really poor family - as opposed to my everyday poor families -the family of white children who disappeared off my radar screen for a while. It seems there are 12 children in the family. Teepha and I brought over a large box of food - pot roast and pork roast and chicken - and diapers (yes, there is a 1-year-old in this group). We brought the box in and the kiddies were swarming over it when we left. You'd have thought we had delivered a large flat screen TV and 7 video games, plus all new bicycles.

That night, Teepha drove her 7-year-old son by the house and told him that the family Christmas money was going there - to the family in the shabby house on Mumford Street. "Kayshawn," she said, "you get toys from Judy and Quest and all your cousins and family, but they will get nothing."

Well, Kayshawn cried for a while, and then said "OK. and started to get in the spirit of things.

You have to understand that my staff is also pretty much living at poverty level. I get them turkeys, we have a huge community Christmas dinner and I give out toys and sometimes a Christmas tree or two or three. I help them sign up for Thanksgiving baskets, and we do a large warm clothing exchange.

But for my staff to adopt a family on their own puts us all to shame. Creesha told me the story of one of these children bringing his older brother to meet "J". Now "J" is very scary to look at, very dark-skinned, tall and burly, but also with a wonderful smile.
"This is J," little David said. "You don't have to be afraid; they like us here." That night, big tough ex-gangsta "J" went home and cried. And so it's come to be that this year, instead of Quest being adopted, Quest is sponsoring it's own family.

And isn't this wonderful? All these black and Hispanic children spontaneously looking out for a white family of 12 children, many with disabilities.

And I'm offering all of you the opportunity to join in. This family needs everything - furniture, clothes, food, medical care and most of all to feel as if they belong and are part of a community, not apart from the community and the rest of the world. They also have a cat who has probably never had its shots.

Maybe the Quest community Christmas dinner could expand and not just have people from the Hill but people from all over. Last year, we served 125 people and gave away 163 toys. We had a tree we cut down ourselves and that the kids decorated with mostly homemade decorations.

We had turkey and jerk chicken and macaroni and cheese and rice and beans and sweet potatoes and pot roast and stuffing and macaroni salad and cranberry sauce and candy and homemade cookies and candy canes and real flowers on the table. And everyone formed a line and served themselves and we cleared up together and I'm telling you it was hell of a party.

It's only September now; if we get started now, imagine what we could do. We could go caroling on the streets of the Hill, and have hot chocolate after. Look guys, I'm offering you a real opportunity here. This could be Hanukkah, Ramadan and Christmas all rolled up into an old time "Leave It To Beaver" or "Father Knows Best" celebration.

I know, I know, I'm really showing my age here. I'm at a disadvantage; you know where I am, but I don't know who or where you are. I'd like to give the mother of this family a makeover - hair, nails, and a new dress. Perfume, too. I'm telling you, this would be fun.

Meanwhile I struggle on at Quest. We will probably be moving soon, and my heart is split. I'm excited about moving to a better, more complete facility, but I'm dreading all the physical labor involved and I'm weeping over the loss of all my wonderful murals.

This will be an organizational nightmare. I guess we will rent a truck and use all the help we can get. But Quest always makes a party out of everything, so we will have lots of food and music and laughter as we move onward.

Moving onward is the key here. There's no such thing as staying put, standing still. There's too much poverty, too many tears, too many people needing to be comforted, and given that gentle shove upwards and onwards. If we don't make the effort ourselves to grow, how can we expect others to do so. It's so comfortable just staying in the status quo, never taking a plunge. If you never fail at anything you never really know how it feels to overcome.

I am so proud of my little family of workers at Quest. They have all, each and everyone, moved forward, struggled on and often cried and beat the walls in fear and misery. Yet they have room to share, and they share what they have with others, willingly. And that's a party, too.

If there's one thing we do at Quest, it's share, with each other and others that maybe we don't know as well. Everyday we are open is a small triumph, and all our giving is quiet but it's still a big party every time we come together. That is when we are not fighting with and screaming at each other. But in the end we have each others backs all the way.

Quest - "Quiet Endeavors and Small Triumphs" - playing daily on a street near you.

QUEST is a community-based organization that provides a safe environment, free meals, counseling, art and recreation programs that keep Hamilton Hill children in school, out of trouble and on track for better lives. For more information on QUEST, visit www.questkids.net.