My Act of Volunteering

I love to help and most times, I'd force myself to help if you would insist I shouldn't. I just don't like being around somewhere, seeing you doing something and I wouldn't do my part. No, that's not me and not how I was brought up. Everywhere I go, I always volunteer to help even if it's little. I just want to feel the joy that comes with helping people, not for anything in return but for who I am.

Since I have been in this town, it has always been my joy to give my helping hand to kids around, either by helping them do their assignments or just talking to them about how to behave well and be obedient to everyone, especially their parents. I had a one-on-one talk recently with a 7-year-old boy who has been proving stubborn to his mother, who has always complained of his bad behaviour; it was obvious the woman was tired, even to the extent of her almost cursing him. I volunteered to speak to the boy that night and ever since then, I haven't heard a pim of complaint from her.

Another time I volunteered to help was in my Reverend's house recently when I helped out in the kitchen because the children weren't around. I always go there to charge my phones and other things and then would use the opportunity to help.

The family has seen and taken me as a daughter and they are always welcoming. They accepted me into their house heartily, though it's a mission house and everyone is welcome anytime but whenever I go there, I must see to it that I help, either by helping the Reverend's wife in the kitchen, helping to serve the food to the dining room, wait till they finished eating and would pack the plates to the kitchen to wash before I retire to my place.

They have the boys around who usually help but whenever they aren't around and it's just mummy and daddy alone, I would be in their house, knowing that's where I would spend the rest of the day helping her out. It's always a joy to me to relieve mummy in the kitchen, and the prayers I get in return are enough for me, more than any material thing I might get. There are days they would give me foodstuffs, not because I helped because I can never accept that, but because they are just too kind and caring to me since I have been in that apartment.

Most times, mummy won't want me to help, but it's always that time we would keep monitoring ourselves as she doesn't want to disturb me. I, on the other hand, would insist on helping because I enjoy doing that, especially to ministers of God. I feel so happy how I used to help in the house to the extent that I'm so free to come in at any time, whether to talk to Daddy or Mummy for advice and other things.

I believe in helping people, not only the helpless but those around you because there's this different feeling of fulfilment that comes when and after helping. After all, at that moment, all that matters is relieving them and spending your time in the right place. This I consider to always do and it doesn't cost me anything to leave my room, most times, wouldn't even cook but to spend my time in their house, helping out and before I knew it, I'm filled and do not need to cook when I return to my place because the joy has satisfied me. Sometimes, they invite me to eat, I would decline, and other days, I just want to eat with them, and being part of the family is nothing more than a privilege to me.

_{Both images are mine}