Rewarding The Heart | Teen Ink

Rewarding The Heart

February 10, 2012
By GuadalupeB BRONZE, Phoenix, Arizona
GuadalupeB BRONZE, Phoenix, Arizona
1 article 0 photos 1 comment

Like the most beautiful scar branded deep inside, I’ll never forget the first time I volunteered at Andre House; a local soup kitchen in Phoenix which helps combat hunger in the city.
I remember the drive leading up to it. The streets that bordered the establishment were littered with homeless who were itching to get in. Upon arrival, I had only one thought floating in mind and that was the possibility of anything and everything that could lie ahead.
I was appointed a simple task of cutting vegetables which was upgraded to preparing potatoes. While preforming it I became acquainted with the fabulous adult volunteers whom I learned never shied away from volunteering and frequently visited. In retrospect I’ve grown to see them as the cities hidden helpers; people with whom without establishment would cease to run and whose prized labor is acclaimed as fools gold when really should be like striking oil. There the ones whom without establishments would cease to run, yet most of their fabulous efforts go unnoticed or rewarded asides from the good of heart it brings. They provide such a profound effect by just doing something as simple as making an investment with their time in all the right places. I’ve grown to realize most people regard volunteering as a death sentence rather than the truthfully fulfilling experience it is. Which is somewhat understandable considering most volunteers are assigned tasks like picking up trash or other lower priority jobs that are honestly not very rewarding. When visiting places like Andre House you really see the payoff for you time invested and just how much of a difference it can truly make.
Their importance struck me so suddenly that then and there I decided I would volunteer more often at places such as those; where the helping hand of one or two really makes the difference and even the possibility of breaking even. One of the last things I remember on that visit was some of the adult volunteers encouraging me to return and the more I let the thought roam in my mind, the more I want to take them up on the offer.
Now I look at the opportunity of volunteering like an usher of hope given life from the rising sun rather than the view I had before stuck somewhere between winter and nightfall.


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