We Think We Can

By Doug Forbes

Running a small nonprofit is not for the faint of heart. Running one because of a broken heart is altogether uphill.

Think of it like an old childhood tale. A hefty freight train filled with toys breaks down at the foot of a mountain. Boys and girls eagerly await its arrival on the other side.

Engine after engine passes by, each offering a feeble excuse for its refusal to assist.

Then along comes a little blue engine willing and able to at least tempt the task, despite far more than lean odds.

I think I can. I think I can. I think I can.

And that little blue engine thought right.

Tears streak down my cheeks as I pen this. The Little Engine that Could was one of Roxie’s all-time fave reads. “Do again,” she used to say. And so we would read it again. And again. I think I can. I think I can.

Roxie was that little blue engine. Her immune system was nowhere near as mighty as that of her peers. Nonetheless, she never, ever looked at herself as incapable of hooking her arms around a friend who needed a little help over a hill. And that heart of hers—my goodness—it was as mighty as they come.

This, my friends, is how we try to run our nonprofit. The mountain is high. The odds are lean. But our love for our daughter is as mighty as a million freight trains.

Every time we see a child, we see Roxie. We see a journey just beginning, mountains to overcome and many miles between each and every one of them.

Pushing the engine of this nonprofit is no different.

You do not see all the ways we chug along day in day out. You may not understand or even agree with what we decide to champion here or there and how we choose our routes and destinations.

All we can promise you is that, as long as their are boys and girls down the tracks, we think we can help them.

We think we can. We think we can. We think we can.

And Roxie whispers in our ears, “Do again.”