Mission Without Borders

Chapter 51 (cont'd)
The sun was a beacon in the sky on a warm Tuesday morning in Canada. Simmy put on some Simon & Garfunkel while the coffee was brewing.
"Good music just doesn't age," she thought.
The mailbox clicked.
Opening the 'Missions Without Borders' envelope, she found a heart-shaped piece of art that had been taken somewhere deep in Europe. Moldova?
She whispered a prayer for Viorel, in a University somewhere in that region. An adopted son who had not met his Canadian family.
Simmy remembered the day she had received news that Viorel was no longer in the orphanage... a polite way of saying that he was 'of age' and he could no longer stay. Worry! Fear! He had no family! And then... Anger... she had picked up the phone and demanded to know if he was safe... somewhere in Europe...
Poor Doug had scrambled, phone calls were made, an answer was promised for September.
Simmy had prayed, cried, and waited... but SHE WOULD NOT BACK DOWN... she was protecting her investment... then, in September...the good news came...

Accepted...,
against all odds,...
because someone cared,
prayed,
believed
that one deaf child,
never visited by anyone while in the orphanage,
could...
BE SOMEBODY.
An opportunity...
accepted into the Arts program,
SCULPTING,...
in a University somewhere in Romania,
Against all odds.

Simmy lifted her hands up to the heavens, in praise, knowing her seed investment, quietly planted, faithfully tended, was growing into a bold dividend.
A human IPO, said to be a risky investment, a short prospectus with no material property. What could be expected for a dividend yield?
Simmy grinned...
Expect Much.

She whispered a prayer for Dymtro, a younger investment.