P4: The Ability to Put Others First

"What I spent I had; what I saved I lost; what I gave I have.”[1]

-Ancient Epitaph

[2] The one thing I cherish and love about being a citizen of the United States of America is the opportunity to pursue just about anything I can dream of. Chris Gardner, who was the inspiration of the movie “The Pursuit of Happiness”, was able to go from spending nights in public bathrooms with his son to becoming a successful stock broker on Wall Street. (The nearby image shows three different clips from the movie, but I want to focus on the bottom snapshot. It illustrates how he rolled out toilet paper on a subway station's bathroom floor for his son to lay on because they did not have money to sleep anywhere else.) Christine Collins, my role model and mother, was able to go back to college at the age of forty to pursue her dream of getting a higher education while at the same time raising a family and working a full time job. When I look at extraordinary individuals like the ones mentioned previously, I get a sense of hope that I can express my passions through all of my dreams. My passion of helping those all around me, more specifically putting others’ needs before my own, has consumed my life. If I were asked the question “Would you still fulfill your passion of helping others if you were not getting anything in return?” My answer would be “YES!” That is why I have no doubt in my mind that my true passion is helping others to the best of my ability.

I do not know how I fell in love with helping others. I believe that it had something to do with the way my family raised me. Up until the age of nine, I was the baby of my immediate family; I had an older brother, which made me the one being taken care of and watched carefully. This makes me feel that my ability to consider the feelings of others started over the summers I spent with my two cousins, Patricia and Courtney, at Daddy James and Madea’s house, who are my great-grandparents. Looking back on those summers, I came to the conclusion that females are naturally born with a bossy gene. It makes us want to have our way all of the time and throw temper tantrums when things don’t go the way we want them, which is exactly what happened when the three of us was together. As the youngest, I was always forced to do what the other two wanted. Majority of the time Courtney and Patricia would fight over whether to play Restaurant, an activity where we would make mud pies and cakes out of dirt and water and gather vegetables out of our great-grandfather’s homemade garden to make salads with the leaves we snatched out of the big tree that blocked us from the heavy heat rays of the sun. The other alternative was to swing on the homemade swings our great-grandfather made for us, one was made with a chain tied from the tree and a seat made out of wood and the other was made with ropes that hung down from the big tree with a seat also made from wood. [3]
(The image of the oak tree is very similar to the one I use to play underneath as a young girl. Oak trees provide shade and play areas where children can escape the heat in the summer.)

There were only two swings, which were always taken by the two older ones. So I was left to pretend that I was driving the broke down riding lawnmower that was placed nearby where we played. Since the swing idea would not include all three of us together, I always wanted to play Restaurant so I could be a part of the group. The dilemma of which game to play came up just about everyday and because of seniority I really did not have a say so in what we were going to do. Until, one day I came up with what I called my “brilliant plan;” I thought of a way to combine both tasks at the same time. I decided that our restaurant could have a delivery service; we could use the swings and the almost ancient lawnmower as the vehicles. It took our imaginations to have the swings as cars, but we all loved the idea. Since a restaurant always needed at least one person there, it eliminated the possibility of one of us, usually me, being excluded from the swings. Ironically, the lawnmower was the closest resemblance to a car so the first person who wanted to deliver our gourmet meals always ran to the lawnmower first.

That was my first experience of creating a way to compromise and make sure that everyone was included and satisfied in a given situation. I remember feeling really good about being the one who thought of the solution to our daily problem especially since I was “the baby,” which seemed to mean I was not capable of coming up with good decisions. That warm feeling inside stuck with me; I love the fact that I am capable of fixing things for other people. I like to ease the burden on individuals when they feel like they are unable to.

Once I reached the age of nine, I was forced to solve another dilemma, making sure my younger brother did not harm himself. When he was born, I immediately assumed the role as big sister; it was my personal mission to make sure he would always be in good hands. From the moment he started to walk it seemed as if trouble was just one step behind him. He hurt himself in just about every way one could imagine; at the age of two, he split his nose in half while jumping on the bed. Shortly after, he pulled our living room television down on top of himself. To add more injuries, he burned his arm on the barbecue pit at a family function and broke the other one while roller blading. Since he was an accident prone person, I felt that as his older sister it was up to me to protect him from himself. I began to watch him very carefully and was selective in who he played with and what activities he did. I felt like an overprotective mother, but I made it my personal responsibility to look after him when my mom was at work. Even though my brother did not directly come to me and ask for me to protect him from getting hurt, I did it because I felt it was the right thing to do. He is nine years younger than I and sometimes does not realize that his dare devil stunts will mostly likely result in another trip to the emergency room. By me being his brain, so to speak, he has not had a major injury in a couple of years; I strongly believe that is a result of me being there for him. [4] (The image above provides three concepts that comes along with helping others. A sense of healing is the outcome when someone has the chance to express what they are going through and the privilege of having a friend listen. Hope is felt when I have the opportunity to see someone walk away with a better prospective on what is going on in their life after I offer my help to them. Lastly, comfort is felt when they feel like they are not alone in their situation.)

"Therefore encourage one another and build up each other, as indeed you are doing." [5]

-1 Thessalonians 5:11

When my friends nicknamed me “the therapist,” it came as no surprise. I love to sit down and genuinely listen to what individuals have to say. Listen to the experiences they have gone through and try to help them find the best method of dealing with their problems. I believe that my ability to listen and discuss issues with people stems from my own personal desire of having a certain person to confide in. Not only do I know how it feels to not have someone to talk to, but I also know how it feels to have someone sit there and appear to listen when they really are not. I want people to always remember the one time or multiple times that I have helped them. I want them to never forget that I listened to what they were going through and gave them reliable advice that was not skewed just to make them feel better. I am truthful when I help others because I would want the same if I were them. Having the opportunity to help others ultimately benefits me without my knowledge. When I experience some of the same situations as the individuals that I have helped, I already know how to handle them, and I am able to make an objective decision. Honestly, when it comes to giving advice, I tell people what I really want to have the courage to do deep down inside. They are kind of like my therapy; I can almost always see a little piece of me in those I help. When I see them following my advice, it gives me a sense of hope that I can do it as well.

[6] (The image is an illustration of a poem, which shows the benefits of helping others. It explains my statement of the gift I receive when I am able to do things for other people.)

My passion is one that should be dispersed to the hearts of many; the world would be a far better place if more people thought of others. I am not sure of where to draw the line between looking out for yourself because one can not rely on others to do everything for them and between putting others’ feelings ahead of your own. I would propose that everyone do at least one good deed for someone else everyday without the expectation of getting something in return. Since I began at a young age showing my passion, I am confident that it is indeed a passion of mine. "The Lord has anointed me; he has sent me to bring good news to the oppressed, to bind up the brokenhearted..." (Isaiah 61:1) [7] My body seems programmed to help others. When someone is upset or just looks like they are having a difficult time, I run to their rescue. I feel obligated to see how I can fix their problem. The happiness and feeling of accomplishment that comes along with my passion drives me to want to reach out and help others in all aspects of my life, even in my dreams.

Word Count: 1,570

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[1] Ancient Epitaph

[2] http://reporter.blogs.com/risky/images/pursuitofhappynesscomposite_1.jpg

[3] http://Ih3.google.com/.../DDU8tu1VYY/s800/DSCN2736.JPG

[4] http://www.hopealiveusa.org/images/tulips_hope.jpg

[5] Brummet, Nancy Parker; June Eaton. Prayers for Life. Publications International Ltd, (Illinois, 2002), 74.

[6] http://www.freewebs.com/royleebarrett/If%20You%20Help%20Others%208%20X%2011%206-2005%20JPG.jpg
[7] Brummet, Nancy Parker; June Eaton. Prayers for Life. Publications International Ltd, (Illinois, 2002), 80.