I used to think those people on the streets were there because they were lazy. I always said to myself that they can easily find a job. Then my assumption of “those people” was torn off me. My mom, assigning us: me and my smaller siblings, windows to look out from to see if we had any sight of him. After searching through streets and stares, I could not believe what I was seeing in front of my eyes. My blood; my older brother was among those people. He had become one of them, that scene that I had seen my brother in was one I always wished I had not seen. All I saw reflecting off him was hopelessness, loneliness, with no direction and no soul. Therefore, I had learned my lesson: unless you have a clear explanation of why they are who they are and where they are, you never know anyone’s situation thus one shall not judge. It hurts to know that someone traveling in their car through the streets of the homeless had been thinking the same thing about my brother when they had seen him on the streets, shouting at him to look for a job rather than being a lazy bum.They had not a clue that money was not the need to fill in the empty hole that occupied his chest. He lacked something greater. Something more significant: love. And that was something I did not understand about those people until I witnessed my brother go through it. Since then, “those people” became a part of me – every time I saw those people they were no longer just ‘those people’ to me. They became people – human beings. It had finally reached my attention that they were souls with voices that are often ignored, souls that just need love. Even though I don’t have much to offer, when I am able to help someone in need, it is heartwarming. And that is how a person practicing altruism should feel. Because it gives the homeless hope knowing that this world is not fully evil; there are stable hearts in this world. That’s the side we are often blinded from seeing and that’s why I feel blessed, now being able to view that side of the world.
I am a sophomore in High School. School is a place where I feel very much alive, especially in English literature class. However, in my freshman year, I went into English literature class like in all of my previous years: careless, loose, and discouraged. Little did I know that that class would be the one to change my life . . . forever. As usual, I always did my work, I always stayed on track, doing whatever just to pass the class. But that class, that year – was different. I got to the point where I was actually excited to look at the next homework assignment; I never left the class disappointed. Day by day, having a little more enthusiasm walking into the class as if I were walking into a magical lair. It was then by the end of that year, while I wrote a “thank you” letter to my English teacher for the shocking change he had stimulated in me, that I realized I appreciated literature; I appreciated reading books and learning about how the authors viewed life, their predictions of the future and their deepest thoughts they had within them through their use of words.
Furthermore, the most recent book we had just finished reading this school year is: The House on Mango Street by Sandra Cisneros. While heading towards the end of the book, we had a homework assignment, the assignment was to give a paragraph about how we felt about the book if the school board should keep the book on the list or remove it. Since it touched emotional subjects, the assignment was required. When a book can speak to you, with that much emotion to where words on paper can connect with a human being and mess with their emotions, then it is worth reading. The House on Mango Street does just that, therefore it should remain on the tenth-grade reading list. It was an emotionally difficult book to read but no one ever said life would be easy hence making tragedies relatable. They expand your mind.
As ironic as it may sound, I have enjoyed being put through many trials because they have made me the person I am today. I love who I am. I am in love with the beautiful soul I hold. I feel very fortunate when I say that because as far as I know, many people do not feel that way for themselves. Nevertheless, unlike a few years ago, I am now grateful for the life I have been given. We are all unique and our experiences were meant to be in each and every one of our paths. Our lives would have taken an alternate course if we had to take one single day out of our lives. Every effort counts. And it is always important to write those efforts down so that you may remember them.
If it weren’t for these situations that I have been put through, then I would never be given the opportunity to have the deep conversations I have with my father. I would have never been able to lay my mother’s head on my shoulder and wiped tears from her cheek. Because those are the moments that create a strong connection between two people. I remember having a conversation with my dad and shared with him one of my deepest thoughts. My father just looked at me, shocked. I saw the spark in his eye he could not believe what he had just heard and he realized that he had a grateful daughter. Through another person, I had found a good quality in me. And that is one of the most magical feelings one can feel especially when it is mutual.
This text was inspired by: Positive Writer. I am participating in the current writing contest.