About Giving a Little Extra
Was going to phone this in, but I just discovered my cell phone dead.
So while it's recharging, I figured I'd just type it. I'll be back
later with updates on the kitchen, good and bad, but for now, this is
an additional response to Robert's post yesterday about giving a
little extra care and notice to people that may be otherwise being
ignored this time of year. Yesterday I went off on a tangent about
ignored people committing suicide, but today I'm thinking of another
angle.
My first "job" was as a candystriper in the hospital. I put job in
quotes, as it was volunteer and not paying, so it isn't considered a
job. However, it started me off in a realization in my life that a
job is anything you get rewarded for, and it doesn't have to be
monetarily. I did this job because my friends were doing it, but I
think I gained a lot from it in the way of life lessons. I took the
gift cart around to rooms, worked in the gift shop, made beds (I know
how to do hospital corners!), filled water pitchers, and delivered
flowers to the rooms, but I learned about life, as well as job
responsibilities.
The thing that always struck me then was entering the rooms of some
of the lonelier people, usually older. Occasionally they'd be
younger, though, including on the pediatrics floor, entering the
rooms with cribs with wailing babies and no one there with them. Even
at 15 I couldn't understand how a parent could their child there,
crying and alone. But with the older people, many had been long
forgotten about by their families. And all they wanted to do was
talk. I'd go in to ask if they wanted something from the gift cart or
deliver flowers to them, and all they'd want to do was talk. They
just wanted someone to listen to them and to be with someone. Even
walking around in the halls, some people had just heard devastating
news, and if you just smiled at them, it seemed enough for them to
get a little bit of hope.
I fought with my parents about taking this job on, as it meant I'd
have to quit my piano lessons to do it, but I think I learned more
than I would have on the piano, and I was never going to be a
virtuoso. I learned about compassion and having it for strangers. It
was one of the guiding forces in me that told me I wanted to do
things in my life that would help others or change someone else's
life. And even now I do jobs where I don't get paid monetarily, but
do in other ways. Some of my writing jobs I get paid, some I don't.
But I get so much out of them. And I don't get paid teaching martial
arts either. Teaching people how to defend themselves, though, to
know that they might be just a little safer and more aware than they
would have been beforehand, it's definitely rewarding.
LauraBelle
Writer, http://www.realityshack.com
Currently recapping The Biggest Loser
Amazing Race, Next Great American Band
Publisher's Circle, http://www.viewpoints.com/aboutme/LauraBelle
Writing Helpful Product and Services Reviews
Blogger, http://www.sofachip.com
Not Just for Couch Potatoes
Mobile post sent by LauraBelle using Utterz.
Replies.
So while it's recharging, I figured I'd just type it. I'll be back
later with updates on the kitchen, good and bad, but for now, this is
an additional response to Robert's post yesterday about giving a
little extra care and notice to people that may be otherwise being
ignored this time of year. Yesterday I went off on a tangent about
ignored people committing suicide, but today I'm thinking of another
angle.
My first "job" was as a candystriper in the hospital. I put job in
quotes, as it was volunteer and not paying, so it isn't considered a
job. However, it started me off in a realization in my life that a
job is anything you get rewarded for, and it doesn't have to be
monetarily. I did this job because my friends were doing it, but I
think I gained a lot from it in the way of life lessons. I took the
gift cart around to rooms, worked in the gift shop, made beds (I know
how to do hospital corners!), filled water pitchers, and delivered
flowers to the rooms, but I learned about life, as well as job
responsibilities.
The thing that always struck me then was entering the rooms of some
of the lonelier people, usually older. Occasionally they'd be
younger, though, including on the pediatrics floor, entering the
rooms with cribs with wailing babies and no one there with them. Even
at 15 I couldn't understand how a parent could their child there,
crying and alone. But with the older people, many had been long
forgotten about by their families. And all they wanted to do was
talk. I'd go in to ask if they wanted something from the gift cart or
deliver flowers to them, and all they'd want to do was talk. They
just wanted someone to listen to them and to be with someone. Even
walking around in the halls, some people had just heard devastating
news, and if you just smiled at them, it seemed enough for them to
get a little bit of hope.
I fought with my parents about taking this job on, as it meant I'd
have to quit my piano lessons to do it, but I think I learned more
than I would have on the piano, and I was never going to be a
virtuoso. I learned about compassion and having it for strangers. It
was one of the guiding forces in me that told me I wanted to do
things in my life that would help others or change someone else's
life. And even now I do jobs where I don't get paid monetarily, but
do in other ways. Some of my writing jobs I get paid, some I don't.
But I get so much out of them. And I don't get paid teaching martial
arts either. Teaching people how to defend themselves, though, to
know that they might be just a little safer and more aware than they
would have been beforehand, it's definitely rewarding.
LauraBelle
Writer, http://www.realityshack.com
Currently recapping The Biggest Loser
Amazing Race, Next Great American Band
Publisher's Circle, http://www.viewpoints.com/aboutme/LauraBelle
Writing Helpful Product and Services Reviews
Blogger, http://www.sofachip.com
Not Just for Couch Potatoes
Mobile post sent by LauraBelle using Utterz.
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