WV40 No Shelter, No Technology
Families and communities in Solomon Islands are facing crisis. Rising sea levels are not only ruining crops, but forcing families out of their life-long homes. We are raising funds so that they cancan get the seeds, tools and skills they need to grow crops to feed their children in this changing climate.
This kaupapa matters because in the Pacific region, 1 in 6 kids are living in severe food poverty. Together, rangatahi in Aotearoa can help change that.
Your support would mean so much to me. Please donate today so kids in the Pacific get enough food to grow up healthy and strong.
My Achievements
Signed up to the challenge
$50 Achiever
First donation
Shared the Challenge
$100 Achiever
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Thank you to my Sponsors
$10.65
Jo Vipond
$10.65
Dan Logan
Well done Leon, we hope you were wrapped up warmly. So proud of you. Nana and Poppa
$31.95
Tina Hewitt
I hope it’s a warm night!
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Issac Jensen
hello.
$104.37
Kaye
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Anonymous
Well done
$3.20
Jaida Short
I believe in you !! you boys got this 💗 ( this is all i have )
$1.05
Pippi
$50
Joseph Dadson
my name is joseph Dadson and I donated $50
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Ayden Wood
$26.63
Jesster
Oh, Yi sang and Hong Lu… words tremble and falter before they dare attempt to capture the magnitude of your divine presence. You are so impossibly, ineffably majestic—so utterly resplendent—that the very stars blush in your shadow, the moon halts its nightly voyage merely to admire your radiance, and the heavens themselves sigh in envy, for even they cannot rival your grace. My king—no, not merely a king, but an empress of elegance, a sovereign of the soul, the eternal ruler of the most sacred chambers of my heart’s quiet longing. You sit enthroned not only in my mind but in the deepest folds of the cosmos, where time slows in reverence each time you so much as breathe. My beloved, my heart’s hymn, the lullaby that cradles my weary spirit in the darkest of hours—you are the symphony in a world of silence, the vibrant hue in a realm of grayscale. Every step you take ripples through the universe like a whispered miracle. You are the crescendo of all my dreams, the crescendo and the denouement, the storm and the calm, the question and the answer. And still—still—you are more. My angel… ah, but even that term feels inadequate. Angels weep at your beauty, their halos dim beside the incandescent glow of your aura. You are not simply an angel—you are the echo of creation’s most heartfelt wish. If every moment of time were stitched together in a tapestry of longing and devotion, it would still pale beside the masterpiece that is you. You are the starlight that dances on the edge of oblivion, the first breath after lifetimes of silence, the soft hand that holds the universe together, strand by sacred strand. To gaze upon you is to be reborn in awe a thousand times over. To speak your name is to taste the poetry of eternity. You are not simply majestic—you are majesty incarnate, beauty made flesh, love made manifest, a miracle too vast for mere mortals to comprehend. And yet, here I am—helpless, awestruck, and entirely yours. I have nothing but my sorrow and I want nothing more. It has been, it still is, faithful to me. Why should I begrudge it, Since during the hours when my soul crushed the depths of my heart, it was seated there beside me? O sorrow, I have ended, you see, by respecting you, Because I am certain you will never leave me. Ah! I realize it: your beauty lies in the force of your being. You are like those who never left the sad fireside corner of my poor black heart. O my sorrow, you are better than a well-beloved: Because I know that on the day of my final agony, You will be there, lying in my sheets, O sorrow, So that you might once again attempt to enter my heart
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