As we sit, some of us, the fortunate few, in our warm bright houses with food-filled cupboards, glass in hand, surveying the piles of wrapped gifts and speculating on what might be inside, it’s a good time to remember how many of the Christmas stories—including the Christmas story—are tales of poverty and homelessness and deprivation.

One doesn’t have to be Christian to be moved by the plight of a young couple, the wife heavily pregnant, homeless and wandering, forced to bed down in a barn for the evening. Even by the standards of the time, a manger can’t have been considered an appropriate or safe place to give birth, and yet that very birth gave rise to the current spectacle of excess we all enjoy/ endure every December. A homeless, ill-treated, poverty-stricken couple and a child they were not equipped to care for: this unwanted trio have done much to change the course of history.

That story at least has the benefit of a happy ending, give or take a few hours from Gethsemane to Golgotha. Hans Christian Andersen’s morbid Den Lille Pige med Svovlstikkerne, or The Little Match Girl, offers us the horrifying tale of a young girl, barefoot in the cold of a Danish New Year’s Eve, huddled in an alley, exhausted and afraid to go home: she hasn’t sold any matches and her father will surely beat her. So she lights three matches, one by one, to enjoy their brightness and warmth. As she slowly freezes to death, she sees visions of happier things: Christmas trees and roast goose dinners and finally her dead grandmother calling to her. She dies surrounded by homes full of prosperous Danes enjoying all the comforts of the season.

I bring these two tales to your attention tonight, on Christmas Eve, because I would like those of you who do have enough, even in these uncertain financial times, to remember those who don’t: not enough food, not enough clothing, shelter, medical care, one might even say not enough love. We are bombarded with appeals for money for causes and I’d like to think most of us do what we can, but there’s one segment of the population that I’d like you to focus your attention on this evening: the homeless Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual and Transgender (LGBT) population. While several among us have created and edited wonderful books, among them Nancy Garden’s transcendent Annie On My Mind, David Levithan’s blissful Boy Meets Boy, and The Rainbow Timeline (as yet unpublished, attention all editors), Karen Romano Young’s brilliant nonfiction work about LGBT life from 3000 B.C. to the present. But while these books feed the minds of our children, they aren’t putting food in their bellies or clothes on their backs.

One of the by-products of the increasing acceptance of the LGBT community by the mainstream is that kids are becoming more comfortable with the idea of coming out and are doing so at an earlier age. (I myself waited until the last college tuition check was paid, the last rent check sent before coming out: I wasn’t brave enough to risk the hardship that might have come from revealing my sexual orientation to my parents.) Today kids as young as 12 are coming out, and not all parents react with even begrudging acceptance. More young children are forced from their homes—by their parents, by mistreatment at school, by emotional and physical neglect—and taking to the streets.

New York City is a tough place and there are a lot of unpleasant lessons to be learned by an unprotected pre-teen or teen, and most of them, some irreversible (HIV, for example) come within a few days of street life. The rate of HIV infection among homeless teens is very high. The medical care available to a homeless person is inadequate and not designed to foster ongoing good health, especiallly for a still-growing youth. Homeless LGBT youth suffer from inordinate rates of mental illness, trauma, HIV infection and substance abuse. And the basics—food, clothing, shelter, education—all things many of us take for granted, are often unavailable to these children.

There are organizations in NYC that aid these children, and I would like to bring your attention to one of the most amazing of them: The Ali Forney Center. Ali Forney was a homeless gay teen who was forced to live on the streets of New York during the 1990s. Ali was dedicated to the safety of other homeless gay youth. He was a tireless HIV prevention worker and an inspiration to all who met him. In December of 1997, Ali was murdered on the streets; his murderer has never been identified. Violence is a very real part of life on the streets.

Since 2000, Executive Director Carl Sicilano, along with staff, volunteers (and the help of a small board and generous donors) have run The Ali Forney Center, an organization to house, clothe, educate, and offer medical care to homeless LGBT youth. But it’s an ongoing struggle. City, state and federal funding help, but we really depend on the generosity of people like us—people who care about children. On a daily basis, everyone who reads this blog works to nourish the minds of our children—and they are ALL our children, regardless of color, religion, political leanings, or sexual orientation. How about taking a moment to fulfill some more basic needs, like food and shelter?

I am asking, in the spirit of the holidays to do at least one of two things. First, please click on the link just above this paragraph in the left-hand column for The Ali Forney Center and learn more about us. If you can make a donation, no matter how large or how small, PLEASE DO: every bit helps. Second, I would ask that if you have a blog or don’t mind sending e-mail blasts to your friends, please link to this post, so we can get the word out to even more people. Donations are appreciated, but even if someone can’t give money, I’d like them to consider the parallels between the too-often-forgotten status of the principal characters in the Christmas story and the children of the Ali Forney Center. Joseph and Mary, pregnant with Jesus, were homeless because the stood up for what they believed in and did what they felt to be right, not what those around them or their communities told them was right–just like our children.  In our now idyllic recreation of the nativity scene, the manger is warm and clean and hushed with the reverence of the moment–but in reality it must have been filthy and noisy and every bit as frightening and uncertain as it is right now, on the streets for LGBT children thrown out of their homes.

I’m proud to be on the board of this organization that does so much for those who need it so badly and I hope that you will consider helping us in a large or small way. These children lost so much simply for being who they are and being brave enough to tell the world. Won’t you honor their bravery in this harsh world with a helping hand? The aid you give now could help a youth move on to great things. In its brief life span, we’ve seen many of our graduates move on to amazing things: one has studied with the Alvin Ailey Dance Company, while another appeared for a season on a national television show. Still others are leading productive lives outside of the spotlight. Think back to the inn-keeper who gave that homeless couple a barn to sleep in overnight: how different would the world be if he had simply said, “I can’t help you,” and closed the door?

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to all. I hope 2009 brings you and yours all the happiness—and comforts—you hope for, and I wish the same for the children of The Ali Forney Center. If anyone would like to know more about the Center, take a tour, or find out other ways to help, feel free to e-mail me at markwmcveigh@gmail.com.

Thanks again, and good night to all.