Save-a-Mate

The other day I wasn't working and so I took a trip back through memory lane to the place I used to live a few years ago when the kids were small. I wandered around the suburb and the new shops and passed our old house and saw all the changes that have happened in the area.

I drove past the kids' old primary school and the pre-primary centre and imagined my children when they were little, playing in the playground and finger-painting at the old playgroup they attended where I used to be president and occasional play-leader.

It was both melancholic and sweet to remember those moments when the children were so little that their arms were still squishy with baby-fat and their fair hair soft and wispy under my touch.  It's bittersweet because they are teenagers now and I have to stop in my tracks and form the image of those memories in my head before they come to me consciously. 

They come to me in my dreams, though.  In my reminiscences, those days were carefree and sunny with a light breeze blowing softly on my skin whilst I walked with the kids in a double pram to the shops: whilst I sat in the front yard of our rented fibro cottage and watched them play in their little sand-pit or help them shape the vibrant fuchsia play-dough that I had cooked up earlier in the week.

Of course the days were not truly like that, but, in my memory, enough were to make this image the strongest one in my mind when I close my eyes and think back; or when, as I did on that work-free day last week, catch myself day-dreaming about times and moments passed.

It was with these honey-sweet memories in my head that I was called over by the Red Cross volunteer at the new shopping centre that was built on a park in my old neighbourhood.  I knew I had no money to give to a new cause.  My husband and I had recently given up sponsoring two children in Equador and Guatamala due to the high cost of living here in Australia and the financial needs of raising two teenagers.  But I went over anyway to give my support to the young volunteer as, having volunteered my time for both Amnesty International and Greenpeace in my own youth, I felt that even verbal and emotional support was better than nothing (and the fact that my middle class guilt gets me every time).

It turns out it was a new initiative for rural areas (particuarly) that the Red Cross had set up called Save-a-Mate (S.A.M).  It is for young people at risk of suicide, mental health issues, drugs and alcohol who need a friendly voice or a helping hand to get them through the tough times.  It turns out that, not only is youth suicide at a shocking high - especially in rural towns and farms where there is little contact with means of support - but also that the help-lines that have been set up for kids to call are not being utilised nearly as much as the organisers of those help-lines would like.  Kids are not phoning the support agencies and they are still hurting themselves regardless.

So the Save-a-Mate initiative allows youth workers and volunteers to ring these kids themselves to see how they are going and to help them in any number of ways.  If you know of a friend who is in need of support, you can give the Red Cross their name and they will add them to their support list.  Hopefully it will save lives and hearts.  But, of course, as with all things, it takes money.

I ended up signing to give only a small portion of my monthly salary to S.A.M. but it's all I can afford at the moment. My own son has been through a hell of a time recently and he has loving, supportive parents, a warm house, nutritious food and lots of opportunity for cuddles and acceptance for the unique person he is.  There are hundreds and thousands of teenagers and young adults in this country that have no one and nothing to rely on.  And , if they do have a family and friends, they may be feeling as though they can't truly be themselves for the fear of having their humanity negated or their special sense of themselves and their place in the world no longer nurtured.

I am giving to S.A.M for that anonymous kid out there, in the privileged country I've grown up in, to feel accepted and loved - even if they never know where it's coming from.