If you ever thought that you, as one small person, couldn't change the world, you couldn't be more wrong. And if you need proof, refreshing, or validation, come to Pittsburgh and plan on spending an hour or two at Randlyland on the Northside.

My friend Samantha and I arrived at Randyland last week, hoping we'd found something inexpensive and fun for our daughters to experience after a visit to my surgeon. Little did we know, that what we'd stumbled upon wasn't just an affordable day out in the city, but an absolutely inspiring place with an equally inspiring creator.

Nestled in the Mexican War Streets district, Randyland is impossible to miss. When we pulled up, the brightly colored corner row home greeted us like a splash of Technicolor love. Even visiting on an overcast day, 1501 Arch Street is a ray of sunshine. As we put the car away and walked towards the open gates, I felt tears of joy welling up in my eyes. All the love, hope, happiness, positivism, determination, and vision that Randy Gilson has sown into his land emanates from the place like an intoxicating mist. Of course, having just come from a check up with my oncology surgeon, some might say that my emotions had already been stirred.

Not this time.

My deeply emotional response mirrors that of the entire neighborhood.

We were greeted by Randy himself, who has been something of an iconic figure in Pittsburgh for over three decades. (So much so, that the waitress where we later had lunch told us the story of how he planted small gardens all around Pittsburgh when she was a child.) Randy is joyful, excited, and engaging; I couldn't help but listen to everything he said. He welcomed everyone with equal parts of excitement and warmth, signing cards and encouraging everyone to also visit the nearby toy museum. His smile is equally as contagious as his joy, and his hugs are genuine. People come from all over the world visit this courtyard full of rescued and repurposed treasures, and to experience the man who made it happen.

As we entered the gates and tried to take everything in, I stopped at the worry box. This waist high, bright blue, wooden box is the only thing in the whole garden that acknowledges anything negative. It instructs you to write down anything you're struggling with (hate, anger, sadness, worry...) and leave it behind. It inspired me to incorporate this into the devotional time my daughter and I have every morning.

Randyland is a treasure trove of nostalgia. As a child of the 1970's, a flood of happy memories of my childhood in Wildwood, New Jersey came back to me in the form of the countless metal porch rockers and chairs scattered throughout. As I marveled at this, Randy's partner overheard and informed me that they pulled most of these chairs from the trash. He pointed up to the cascade of metal porch chairs and explained that the ones no one could sit on became a collage.

There are mirrors everywhere, and the more I listened to Randy speak, I realized they were there to make us look at ourselves and see something wonderful. After all, part of sowing love into the world begins with loving ourselves.

Everything in the garden has a positive message, especially Randy. He is open and happy to answer questions about his journey, and take pictures with visitors. In fact, if you're too shy to ask, he will offer to take selfies and all sorts of pictures with you. He is genuinely interested in the people who visit his small oasis and approaches each one uniquely. My daughter, who has an ASD, took to him instantly and has made a treasure of the T-shirt and signed card Randy gave her. Ahava has added him to her list of heroes.

I asked Randy about the impact his vision had on the community, and his answer was inspiring and encouraging. "When I moved to this neighborhood it was guns and drugs," he told us. He explained how he would pull everyone's trash to the street so the city would have to collect it, and how he would work at night. "Little by little people saw the changes in the neighborhood" and left him to his vision. To walk that neighborhood now, you would never guess it was guns and drugs in the past. One man with nothing but love to give made a difference. The ripple effect has reached around the world.

For people like me, who live in an area with a drug and hopelessness epidemic, Randy Gilson's journey and the realization of Randyland are a great source of encouragement. My daughter and I have long wanted to surround our home with colors and beautiful, happy things that stir up joy with our community. Discouragement sets in easily when you're trying to share love and be a light in a struggling community. I know I fall terribly short of my desire to love my neighbors at times, and I'm sure I'm not alone. As a Christian, I am compelled to press on towards the goal: a community transformed and healed.

What I took away from the corner of Arch St. and Jacksonia was a confirmation that achieving my vision is not impossible. Jesus is always reminding me that people and neighborhoods are worth fighting for. Love and kindness - and of course, art - are our most powerful weapons in that battle, and I feel newly refreshed for the next wave.

As we left, Randy encouraged us to leave behind some love, a kiss, a wish, a prayer...anything positive. Believe me, contributing to that swirling vortex of goodness is my pleasure.

If you'd like to see more pictures or articles on Randy Gilson and/or Randyland, go to his website or follow him on Instagram

Better yet, just go say "Hi!".