In the midst of these overwhelmingly chaotic days, I recently found a new reason to be hopeful. It came not from any prominent leader but rather from the actions of a four-year-old boy. His efforts were extraordinary and tender. And, they were the result of the guidance offered by his amazing parents and the wonderful teachers who are nurturing him and his preschool classmates.

The story below is in his mother’s words.

While getting ready for bed one evening in December, Harmon said to me, “Mommy, did you know that not everyone has a house?”

Me: Oh yeah? Tell me more, bud.

Harmon: Some people have to sleep outside because they don’t have a house. It’s really bad. They deserve a house.

Me: I agree, bud. Housing should be seen as a human right, not a luxury. We’re really lucky that we have a home.

Harmon: Yeah, Brian doesn’t have a house. But I know how he can get a house.

Me: Oh yeah? Who is Brian, and how do you think he can get a house?

Harmon: He lives by my school, but not in a house.

Me: Well (I pause — brain racing, thinking about how I explain mortgages and zoning ordinances because I can’t make things simple.) It’s not easy to just get a house, bud. How do you think he could get one?

Harmon: Well, more people need to die so people without houses can move into the dead people’s houses.

Me:  Oh well, yes — that is an option. Do you think we need a multifaceted approach? Like maybe we need to build more affordable houses and provide help to get people into houses.

Harmon: No. More people need to die. Then there will be a house for Brian. 

I left the conversation there because arguing with a four-year-old is a fruitless endeavor. 

A few days later, I relayed this story to another mama from Harmon’s school. She chuckled and said, “That’s so funny because my daughter recently told me that she needs a really good job when she grows up so she can afford to build a house for herself and build a house for Brian.”

At this point in the story, it is important for readers to know about this school.

Harmon attends the Dr. Pat Feinstein Child Development Center in downtown Providence. It is magic — the teachers, staff, and administrators make it magic. While NAEYC and Rhode Island Early Learning and Development Standards shape the curriculum, it is designed to meet the needs of each child through play-oriented and child-initiated learning. Teachers approach their teaching methods from the belief that children are best understood within the context of their communities and strive to foster strong reciprocal relationships with families and greater communities.

Supporting each child’s role in their communities teaches each child that they have agency.

Feinstein does not have a playground or fenced-in school yard. All of downtown Providence is the school’s campus, and everyone downtown is part of their community. And, like most midi-sized cities in the U.S., downtown Providence includes some of the wealthiest, most politically connected individuals in the state as well as unhoused individuals and people from every walk of life in between.

Community-centric approach

The teachers and students walk all over to various parks throughout the city, learning sidewalk and street-crossing safety, and engaging with those who are part of their community. Through this community-centric approach, the students learn how to safely and appropriately engage with people — known and new. Everyone knows the kids — from the Mayor (Harmon thinks he and the Mayor are tight), to people who work or live downtown, to the unhoused individuals — and the kids know most of them. 

Anyone who has spent time with a preschool-aged child knows that they are the most observant creatures who have questions about everything. 

When the students started asking questions about the man who they walked by most days, the teachers leaned into the students’ interests. They went to the library to read books and had age-appropriate class discussions about what it means to have a house and what it means to be unhoused. The school had a coat drive in December. The whole school walked to Mathewson Street Church to deliver the coats, where the coats would be distributed to the individuals who rely on the services provided there. 

During this time, the teachers were (without the students) getting to know Brian. Once they felt it was appropriate, the students were allowed to ask Brian his name on a walk to a park. He became a named member of their community.

A warmth that’s contagious

Harmon brought Brian up again to me in early January during the first polar vortex. He hadn’t seen him for a few mornings. My husband, Tim, will talk to anyone, and since he had also seen Brian regularly on Westminster, they had talked a few times. He knew that Brian had secured a bed in an emergency shelter, but shelters aren’t open during the day. We suggested Harmon bring our stash of hand warmers to give to Brian after school. Harmon liked that idea, but said, “Brian needs a winter coat.”

Tim said, “I have some extra winter gear. Let’s make Brian a bag of things he may need.” Harmon and Tim went through Tim’s winter gear, picking out a winter coat, gloves, and a hat, and put it all in a bag for Brian with hand warmers and a Dunkin’ gift card.

Brian wasn’t in his usual spot when went to school drop-off that morning. Tim promised Harmon we could give the bag of items after school. During drop-off, we confirmed Brian’s name with Harmon’s teacher. She said, “Oh, I bought a package of 50 hand warmers for Brian. I was going to have the kids put ten per bag that we could give him some every few days so he doesn’t have to carry all of them around.”

This is when Harmon informed her that he had a bag of winter gear for Brian. His teacher said, “Well, would you like to give Brian the bag when we walk to Paradise Park today?”

We didn’t want to put that responsibility on the teachers, but they were comfortable with making the delivery. That morning, on their walk to Paradise Park they passed Brian, and Harmon handed him the bag of winter gear to help him stay warm. 

What the children learned

Harmon and his classmates were so proud of themselves for seeing a problem, an injustice, and, while it wasn’t a house, they knew they had made a difference. They learned they could rely on the known adults in their lives to help them help others. Most importantly, the students learned that they have agency and can impact their community.

Brian later waved down Tim to thank him.

Tim said, “Oh, that wasn’t me. That was all Harmon. I just got the coat off the hanger and found a bag for everything, but it was Harmon who took the initiative.” 

Brian continues to be part of our downtown community. He says hi or simply waves when Tim or the students walk by, a bit warmer. 

This inspiring story has several heroes. There are the parents who listened attentively to their child and assisted him in carrying out his act of lovingkindness. There are the teachers who brought awareness to a greater sense of community and helped their young students learn about the hardships of some of their people. There are the curious students themselves who, without judgment, regularly engage with those in their surroundings.

And then there is sweet Harmon, the little boy with the huge, pure heart. He saw a man in need. Unlike many adults, he didn’t ignore the man or notice him briefly in passing. He didn’t dismiss him as someone less worthy. He actually saw him. He called him by name. And he cared. He cared enough to find a way to help, and he was determined to follow through on his plan.

Thank you for your example, Harmon! Oh, what a world we might build if more of us lived with the compassion of you and your circle!