On Saturday afternoon, I arrived on Ellis Island, dressed in a tuxedo, with about 100 other people. It is hard to imagine that approximately 100 years ago my grandparents and mother arrived on the same island with barely the clothes on their backs, packed together with hundreds of other souls desperately seeking freedom.

The contrasts were stark and emotional:

• I am wearing a tuxedo with fancy shoes and a red rose on my lapel, while they were dressed in the same clothing they had probably been wearing for weeks or months;
• I arrived at the ferry dock in a chauffeured car. They walked over 1,500 miles across Europe to get to their ship;
• I arrived at Ellis Island after a seven minute sail from the dock on Manhattan Island, while they sailed for 20 days from France to reach Ellis Island;
• The ferry that I sailed on had a full bar and clean bathrooms. Their ship smelled and was packed to the rafters with seasick people;
• I was greeted by over 150 members of the U.S. Armed Forces all wearing full dress uniform with bands playing. They arrived to chaos, uncertain and unable to speak the language or understand what they were being told to do;
• I entered the Great Hall on a red carpet with a glass of champagne in my hand, while they entered the Great Hall on the mud and grass clutching the one small bag each of them was permitted to carry on board the ship;
• I was there to receive a "Medal of Honor." They were there hoping to find a place to live free of the persecution that had followed them all their lives.

Tears welled in my eyes as I entered the Hall; I had goose bumps all over. What must they have felt when they disembarked at Ellis Island? Did they have any idea what awaited them? They had been hustled out of every place they had lived or tried to live for generations, forcing them to virtually be migrants. Could they foresee that one day their grandson would be able to receive such a high honor as this Medal?

One thing became crystal clear to me at that moment: the medal I was about to receive rightfully belonged to them, not to me. They did the heavy lifting; they suffered the hardships; they had the courage; they endured it all so that I could be here in my tuxedo sipping champagne. Their value system, their total trust and commitment to this country, and their relentless pursuit of freedom are forever etched into my DNA.

What a great country is the United States of America!

Tomorrow I will receive Ellis Island Medal of Honor. As a child of immigrants, Ellis Island and its history rest close to my heart. For the more than 20 million people who passed through its gates (including my parents and grandparents who arrived with little more than the clothes on their backs), Ellis Island represented the end of a long arduous journey and the beginning of their quest for freedom and the opportunity to lead better lives. These millions built our nation into what it is today, and I am proud to be part of a nation that benefits from their determination.

Before coming to the United States, my family endured many hardships. My maternal grandmother grew up in a small farming village in what was then known as White Russia (where Belarus is today). Her family was forced out of their home by the Czarist Pogroms, and they subsequently journeyed 1,600 miles to France. My grandmother told me that it took them over a year to make the trek, and they suffered terribly. Her younger sister and older brother both died en route and her mother became extremely ill, passing away shortly after their arrival in France.

My maternal grandfather was similarly displaced by the Russian Empire and forced to endure a life-threatening journey in search of a new home. His family and others from their small Yiddish community in Poland set out on foot to Romania. They were soon forced to leave from there as well, and began a second trek to France where he met my grandmother and they were soon married. They later made their final long journey to the United States.

I grew up with humble beginnings in Brooklyn. Throughout World War II and into the early 1950s, my family and I lived in an old bungalow on Coney Island where ten other families shared the common bathroom facilities. I worked long hours as a teenager, developing a personal appreciation for other children born into challenging circumstances.

As an adult, while recovering from cancer surgery in 1996, I was reflecting on my childhood. Watching the announcements for the Pulitzer Prize on television, I realized that there were awards for art and literature, science and peace, and film and entertainment; however, nobody recognized those individuals who were committed to helping vulnerable and disenfranchised children.

This epiphany led to the establishment of the World of Children Award. Our mission is to recognize the world’s most effective child advocates and elevate and fund their programs. The World of Children Award has now touched the lives of millions of children. Since 1998, we have invested $4.8 million in 90 individuals helping children throughout the globe.

While this Medal will be in my name, it has really been earned by all those people who have worked so tirelessly to make our service to vulnerable children so vital and successful including my wife who is my partner in this venture and our Board of Governors who are so generous. I will graciously accept the Medal of Honor on behalf of all of those brave and selfless individuals who have devoted their lives to serving vulnerable and disenfranchised children throughout the world. With them, I can envision a brighter future for children everywhere, and I look forward to working with fellow child advocates to achieve this goal.

Sincerely,
Harry Leibowitz
Co-Founder, World of Children Award

I recently returned from my three-day visit to Haiti, where I went to visit several
children’s programs, schools and homes, including those of past World of Children
Award Winners Dr. Jane Aronson and Susie Krabacher.

Throughout Haiti and Port-au-Prince, the conditions I saw were jarring. Prior to the
earthquake the predicament was poor, but now Haiti has been practically pushed
to the brink of the Stone Age. Piles of rubble are everywhere, serving as constant
reminders of what took place nearly a year ago. Roads, pocked with crevices and
holes that will jar your teeth, are barely passable. Sanitation is fundamentally
absent, with rubbish strewn everywhere and animals of all sorts and sizes feeding
on the garbage.

Conditions for the children of Haiti are particularly challenging. I visited several schools
which have, for the most part, reopened. Children who attend school often walk
an hour or more to attend classes. The children with families supporting them
seem to be somewhat safe, albeit undernourished. The number of orphaned and
abandoned children spiked after the quake, and there are unfortunately not enough
quality facilities to care for them. Then, of course, there is the Haitian version of
child slavery, known as restavek, which has always existed but is now a plague in
the island nation. Children are either sold or stolen, then sadly put into forced labor
in domestic situations where sexual and physical abuse is the standard order of the
day. This horrible fate, which primarily affects girls 9 years old and younger, leaves
children diseased, disfigured pariahs of their society.

During my visit, I spent the bulk of my time visiting orphan programs and schools.
Contrasts between programs were, quite frankly, stark. Visiting the Branchizio
school run by 2006 World of Children Award Winner Susie Krabacher was the
most positive experience of the trip. Well over 500 children, mostly orphans from
the slums of Port Au Prince, were dressed in neat uniforms and studying in real
classrooms with books. The children were well behaved and eager to learn, the
teachers attentive and caring. The kitchen was clean and well staffed.

At the other end of the spectrum, I visited a program, whose name I won't mention
but which would be well known to all readers, where the children were terribly
unkempt. There were not enough adults to control the children and where the
children acted in a “mob mentality”. The scene was chaos and very, very sad.

I also visited two programs run by Kathi Juntunen, who is partnering with World
of Children Honoree Dr. Jane Aronson. Both of these programs sustained total
devastation during the quake, yet they have managed to recover and there is now
proper adult supervision and the children were well behaved. Construction here
was moving along nicely on a new school and orphanage, which could be completed
in a few short months.

After completing the visit and taking inventory of my experiences I have come to
these conclusions. First, all Americans who donate to Haitian relief for children
MUST ask for accountability. My sense is that a great deal of funding is not reaching
the children and there is not a great deal of oversight where many Americans
have placed their trust. As noted above the programs of Susie Krabacher, a World
of Children Award Winner, and of Kathi Juntunen in cooperation with World of
Children Award Winner Dr. Jane Aronson were clearly safe, effective and efficient.
Others that I did visit would make their American donors cry.

Second, aside from a safe environment, food is a major problem. Most children get
barely enough food for sustainability. Third, there are many children with very
treatable diseases such as ringworm, malnutrition and infections, but there was no
medication available on site to treat them.

Finally, from speaking with local Haitians, I concluded that this is a country without
a functional government and the recent elections did not help. Until there is a
respectable and functioning government (and that could take a decade to establish)
the children will be dependent on non-governmental organizations for support.

If you would like to support heroes doing reputable work for children, please click
here to donate to effective programs run by World of Children Award Winners.

We recently lost one of our own when Sargent Shriver passed away after losing a battle with Alzheimer’s. In 2000, Sargent Shriver and his wife, Eunice Kennedy Shriver, were Honored at The World of Children Awards for their creativity, leadership and commitment to children with disabilities through their founding and endowment of The Special Olympics.

Sargent Shriver was a dreamer who knew how to turn his dreams in to lasting social change. He envisioned and founded the Peace Corps, the Job Corps and Project Head Start, three admirable programs that survive his death. However, one dream-turned-reality that held special meaning for Sargent Shriver was The Special Olympics, the project we Honored him for 2000. When I had the chance to meet him he told me, "The smiles of these children, who had been relegated to second class citizens, gives me the power to go on."

Shriver strived to be available for "his children," as he called them, and to make a lasting difference in their lives. For his vision, resilience and courage, these children – as well as all of us at World of Children – will forever be grateful for his time on this earth. I believe that there has been no better example of a "privileged person" giving himself up for the world’s most vulnerable children than Sargent Shriver. May he rest in peace.

Harry Leibowitz

Co-Founder/Chairman

World of Children Awards

Earlier this week, I was walking in Manhattan. It is the height of the holiday shopping season, and masses of people were out smiling and carrying bags of purchases large and small. It was only 24 degrees in New York on this day, and the bitter cold weather inspired me to seek shelter. As I turned down 44^th Street to head for my hotel, I noticed a very young woman carrying barely-clothed child close to her. She was not panhandling or digging around in the garbage. I went over and asked her if I could help her out. “No thank you,” she said shyly. “But your child will freeze in this weather without clothing,” I replied.  Her poignant response stirred me: “We survived last winter and we will survive this one, together.”

I was overwhelmed with emotion and concern. I realized that this woman probably had only one thing left in life - her dignity - and she was not about to give that up by accepting a handout from a stranger. And yet her precious child said nothing, reminding me of a phrase I often say: Children are the largest voiceless minority.

While I was proud of this young mother’s courage and resolve, this exchange redoubled my will to help children like this woman’s child. World of Children is dedicated to improving the quality of children’s lives because children don’t get to choose the situation they are born in to; they just are. Regardless of the circumstance, it is our responsibility to reach out and help children who are hungry, poor, sick or abandoned.

As we all experience holiday frenzy - shopping, the tree, house decorating parties and the football bowl game excitement - it would be good if we paused and remembered the real, universal meaning of the holiday season: ”Good will towards others.”

You can bring a smile to the face of a child who is struggling against the odds by making a simple pledge at www.worldofchildren.org. Then, put a smile on your face and go forth through the holidays enjoying family and friends knowing that out there, somewhere, is a human being like you who is saying “THANK YOU” and blessing you for your small gift.