Spare a Rose, save a life: (The one where I no longer hate Valentine’s Day)



SpareARoseWithLeaf-225HI know, it’s a movie. It’s the punch line of a joke. It’s said over and over. But I need to say it:

I hate Valentine’s Day.

Some it might come from having been a new kid in a school quite a few times back in the day when they didn’t make everyone bring a Valentine for everyone. Some of it might come from the fact that it just burns me that Hallmark holidays force people to feel less worthy, less loved, less needed for materialistic reasons.

And what really bugs me is the cost of flowers. Roses in particular. Boost them up to a crazy high not because they are rare, but because people are desperate this day. Icky. Just icky.

So one would think nothing could make me “celebrate” this day. (And I add here I’ve been married 30 years. I’m happy. This is not about not feeling loved). And then along came this:

 The Spare a Rose Program.

A reason for me to not just accept – but embrace – Valentine’s Day.

If you read this blog you know that insulin has kept my daughter alive for going on 17 years now. Sometimes I take that for granted. I curse the customer service rep when getting refills gets complicated. I make fun of companies for random policies, like the one that covers my daughter’s insulin but not the needles she needs to put it in her body. I bang my head against the wall when doses don’t work just right.

But the reality is this: I am truly blessed to have all that to complain about.

Because in other parts of this world, what happened to Lauren on October 28, 1997 at 2:35 p.m. would be more than a terrible crisis with hospital intervention.

It would be a death sentence. That’s right: there are still parts of this world where children who are diagnosed with type 1 diabetes cannot get access to insulin. And they die. Quickly.

That’s where Spare a Rose comes in. Spare a rose asks you, this Valentine’s day, to send your loved one just one less rose (11 instead of 15) and donate the $5 that 12th rose would cost to provide insulin to a child who would not otherwise get it. To a child who would otherwise die, and die quickly. If you want, you can spare the entire dozen and give the cost of the bouquet to save even more lives (that would be my choice if you happen to be thinking of me this V-day.)

Here are the details and an easy place to donate:

Consider doing this for Valentines Day—and let me know that you did.

And hey: if I was the new kid in your school way back when and you forgot me, this would be a great way to remember.

Spare a Rose. Save a life. Maybe Valentine’s Day ain’t so bad after all.

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