This summer, I went on a week-long mission trip with my church, First Congregational Church of Houston, to New York City. We hosted Vacation Bible Study at the Salvation Army, helped teachers at a Head Start preschool and handed out food to the homeless.
One day, we were handing out lunch in a soup kitchen when an older man walked in. He was wearing tattered jeans with a threadbare tank top. He kindly asked for two meals. When we told him we were allowed to give only one to each person, he was infuriated. He started yelling that he was a veteran of this country and that he fought for peace and now lives on the streets. He left the soup kitchen without a meal. It shocked me when I learned later that 11 percent of the homeless population are veterans.
On another steamy day, we assisted teachers at a Head Start preschool near the soup kitchen. In the room of 3 and 4 year olds, one child ran up and asked my name. She told me her name was Sofia. We began to play with Play-Doh.
Later, we helped the kids put their sneakers on and left for a park. We walked in a line on the sidewalk and passed a homeless man near public housing. Sofia recognized the man and flashed a smile. He greeted her by name, along with a couple of the other kids. We tottered off to the park.
Working with people less fortunate than I highlighted the insignificance of my problems. These are people who do not have a roof over their head or cannot afford to buy food. Most of the people we helped were overwhelmingly gracious. My issues dealing with grades or sports are nothing compared to difficulties that so many others go through daily. I encourage everyone to go out and help your community, if not to help others, to help yourself to put your struggles into perspective.
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