A column I wrote...

Here's something I wrote for work to fill space, so it'll do the same thing here.

"Some of the best people I know aren't old enough to vote.

And sometimes I wish they could grasp that.

You'll probably never hear about them. They won't show up in the sports pages for football victories or in the scholastic achievements listings.

The whole point of it is to keep them out of the obituaries.

So, I'll tell you about the kids I know through volunteering. The ones whose acts of bravery, kindness, fortitude and all-around selflessness go unwritten about every day would melt your heart.

For most of them, I don't know what they're going home to. Some I know have great parents, while others have none at all.

The ones with the bruises, not from skateboarding, biking or rollerblading.

The ones who sleep under a bridge but still go to school.

These are the kids who should -- by several theories of psychology and sociology -- be the ones out committing crimes because some are neglected by their parents to the point it's crippling. They should be the people I write about every day as a crime reporter.

But not these kids.

The ones who slap me in the face with an ice cream sandwich, and just to gross them out, I'll pick it off the floor we play basketball on and shove the melting ice cream in my mouth.

They'll groan in disgust and laugh hysterically because, for a second, they've forgotten about everything bad in their lives. That's my job. Being a surrogate big brother has never been so much fun.

There's a certain kid that comes to mind. She's so tirelessly concerned about others' problems that she forgets to tend to herself, because someone has made her feel worthless.

It's so depressing it breaks my heart.

And there are so many cases like hers in the Quad-Cities. Kids that could just use a hug or some kind of affirmation of love from their parents or some adult who cares.

It just seems so simple to me, but still I hear it all the time: "What do you know? You're not a parent."

No, I'm not -- at least in the strict sense of the word. What started as volunteering at a skate park ended up to be one of the best and worst things I've ever done.

Best, because of how the kids give my life a new dimension filled with laughter, hope and empathy.

Worst, because I can only do so much.

But, I'm no one special. I'm just some guy with spare time. There are plenty of people out there doing even more with kids far worse off than mine.

The problem is there are never enough willing adults to tell a kid they're worth their time."