At a young age, I voluntarily cleaned my bathroom sink for the first time. I grabbed the cleaning supplies, taking a sponge and wetting it under the tap. I used soap and that powdered bleach stuff, and got to work. When shiny suds and water splashed all over the counter stripping the dirt and grime from the sink’s surface, I stepped back and examined my work. I sure enjoyed this clean feeling. After this event, my mom got me some pink cleaning gloves and I did it again another time. Weeks later, I decided I wanted to clean some more. I basically went on a cleaning spree, cleaning our kitchen sink, windows, and organizing my room. But after a while of doing that, I didn’t want to clean my own house, so I called my aunt and asked if I could clean her pantry. 

     “For free?!”, She asked. 

     “Yes!” I exclaimed.

     My mom thought it was so weird that I would rather go to her house where it was messier and just more unorganized than ours. She practically begged me to stay cleaning at our house, it meant more relaxing time for her. But to me, there’s something about cleaning someone else's space while getting no personal benefit from it (I wanted to do the job for free). Then, I thought I’d rather clean and organize than play video games, I actually enjoyed this task.

     If you haven’t figured this out yet, I love being able to help others and doing service. I believe it’s one of my strong points. I just grew up doing it and with groups of people who liked to do the same thing. There’s something really satisfying about it, about service. One time, I went over to my neighbors house and helped them clean out their garage and babysit. I knew she was going to pay me in the end, but I secretly told myself that I would nicely decline, I wanted to serve. She was having a bad day, she told me, after one of her daughters got sick and the house was in disarray. So I figured this was doing her some good, I however, accepted some brownies she made.

     But along with my obsession with being kind to people, I’ve discovered in the past couple of years, however, that I don’t like to take help easily, or don’t ask for it as much as I should. I get so caught up in only serving and focusing on others that I just don’t. I say “Oh that’s ok, I got it” or “Thanks for the offer, but I’m alright”. This has easily become a habit for me. And when I do receive help or hesitantly ask for it, I find myself feeling kind of squirmish depending on what it is. Like picking up my fallen books and papers off the floor when I easily could or someone taking the extra time to stay after to wait for me at school.

     Once, I decided that I was going to clean and decorate my window well. I needed a new project to do since I was quarantined, so I thought why not. It was dirty with rocks, had spiderwebs, and smelled kind of musty, but I was determined to carry through. Hours went by as I removed debris, shuffled the underneath rocks to the surface, and scrubbed the metal walls. I then proceeded to paint the metal walls white. That part took the longest. Night came sooner than I realized, and I painted myself in, having painted the ladder last. I was cold and could barely see, I would wait this out until it dried. As I stood there in my window well, with my bedroom light illuminating my limited range of vision, I wished I went inside earlier. I could be inside right now under blankets watching TV. Not too much later, my parents got home. I forgot I was supposed to be babysitting, whoops. My dad was able to help me out and I made it inside. If he hadn’t been there I probably would have waited in my stubbornness for the paint to dry and use the call for help button in my brain when I needed it most, which was certainly not right then.

     I feel like others sometimes just help out of spite and really could be doing something else at the moment. I worry too much about others taking the time to serve me because I care about them. I also don’t want to appear needy for things although I hardly ask for help. Sometimes I question if I burden others. I know this part seems strange about me but that’s how I often feel. I know what it’s like to take a risk being late to something or to make room in a busy schedule for something. I guess you could say I rely on myself more than on others.

     But despite all this, I am slowly starting to realize that taking help is good. While it’s still hard for me to accept it because I’m supposed to be able to do things for myself and I have to learn how to be independent and make sure I am prepared, I’m seeing that it’s not all about letting others help me. It’s also allowing others to do service and giving them a chance to do so. The world sometimes needs to balance itself out and have people take turns in doing good for others. I believe it’s a building experience when people assist each other.

     I’m seeing that I’m happy not just from serving others, but also happy I’ve been served for. Especially when it’s a nice gesture of thank you. From expressing appreciation by receiving information about prices to showing someone where the item they need is. I get this at work sometimes from customers, it definitely makes my day go a little bit better. It makes me feel warm inside that someone decided to assist me or return the favor. I end up feeling less stressed out as a result of this too. Sometimes it’s the simple things that go such a long way, like when I got visited by some neighbors who remembered my birthday, they gave me a card and a cupcake.

     Service is an aspect that makes me who I am today because I continue doing it. I am part of the National Honors Society, a service community where we get together and do service projects. I learned from service, that once you start, it’s hard to stop and it’s in the small acts that matter too.