The Island Shoe Girl's Blog

Put on your party shoes and enjoy the birthday cake. Photo by Jean Thornton

Birthdays are funny things.  When we are little, birthdays are cause for great parties and even greater anticipation.  As we get older, birthdays change from the highlight of our year to simply another day.   Only when we get to an age where people are amazed that we are still alive do birthdays again become cause for celebration. Our adult lives and adult responsibilities take over; for me, it’s not feeling old that make my birthdays a less exciting event, it’s feeling rushed.   

Being a December baby born within the dreaded two week range around Christmas, my birthday has always conflicted with holiday events.  Yet as a child my birthdays were exciting.  There were the cupcakes at school, the sleepover with friends, and all the singing and cheering over my mere existence.  The whole day was MY day, from choosing a sugary breakfast of donuts to bundles of birthday cards—it was non-stop smiles.   Birthday cakes with loads of sweet frosting were not diet-busting dangers but wish granting machines.

My birthdays since college have become less important in both my adult schedule and that of others.  I am not offended by it; I understand because my calendar is just as complicated and clogged with all the realities of life as the next  person’s.  I am happy just to spend an evening without a work crisis and with good friends—even when those friends live in my shoe closet.  In the critical time crunch before holiday vacations start and much of the world stops functioning until January 2^nd, a birthday can almost be an inconvenience.

That is how I was looking at my birthday again this year.  I was not throwing a pity party for myself, but I was planning on keeping my birthday calm, simply hoping to wrap up work projects and brace for another year ahead.  It hasn’t been an easy year in my line of work as a homeless shelter case manager.  The budgets have been slashed since there simply are not enough tax dollars to go around, but at the same time, more and more Americans lose their homes, lose their jobs, and lose hope for their future.  And so the demand for shelter space becomes greater.  

The hardest part for me is not the thought of previously successful people struggling to find the simplest job, or the shame of elderly persons who can no longer afford to balance small budgets and maintain their health.  It is the children.   Children make up almost 25% of the homeless population nationwide; they are frequently the most overlooked part of our homeless population.  While I understand that most people truly want to believe in an America where children have homes with warm beds and full stomachs at night, sadly, I know this is not true for every child in our country.

One of my goals is that the children at my shelter do not “feel homeless”—that they feel like every other child in town.  It takes a lot of hard work and community support to just meet a child’s basic needs.  Birthdays, however, are often forgotten days by those outside of the shelter.   Recently, I had the chance to help remember one birthday; it was a big one too, 7 years old.   No driver’s license, no extended curfews, no voting rights.  But when you are 6, 7 is a very big deal.  

Birthdays at the shelter do not resemble the ones shown on television shows.  There are no inflatable jumping houses, no clowns, no pony rides.  Our staff always finds a way to make the day as special as we possible; there usually are homemade birthday cakes, party hats, a few small simple presents, and a couple of balloons.  Even though the guest list is small—only the other residents of the shelter—the candles and birthday wishes still shine just as brightly. All the things that we adults once held true as children are still believed by little ones today.  They still think they are friends with the coolest person in the world simply because they tell the best jokes; that adults are amazing because they can light candles; and all their gifts are priceless no matter the actual cost.  And they still believe that if they wish with all their heart, that wish will come true. 

Yes, birthdays could be seen as just another day of the year.  But the beauty of a birthday is that it really is your day; the other 364 belong to someone else but that one day is yours.  It could be easy to see this year as disappointing in a time when so many have lost so much.  But if children in homeless shelters can find a reason to celebrate their own .special day then surely we adults can find one day for ourselves too. 

I’ve decided birthdays should really be a lot more like we dreamed they would be when we were little.  So this year I am dropping the first number and embracing the ‘8’ at the end of mine.  I plan to eat a big piece cake and not worry about the calories.  My friends will be the coolest people in the whole world because they make me laugh; my parents will be amazing because they still do things I have yet to master; and the gifts from the heart will mean the most.  And I will believe that if I wish with all my heart it will come true.