Unit 6

Text A

One summer holiday, a teenager volunteered to work in a soup kitchen and got her first big lesson there. What was the lesson she drew from the experience? Let's read the following story.

Becoming a Better Person

Laura Hennessey

In the summer of 1992 I got my first big lesson in community service. I can still remember how I felt the first day of my volunteer assignment. I thought I was one of the most selfless teenagers around, giving a whole month of my precious summer to work in a soup kitchen.
At 7 a.m. every morning, I would walk to the bus stop in my suburban neighborhood, board the 67A and settle in for the hour-long ride into, what seemed to be, another world. Goodbye air-conditioning, big grassy yards and pedigree dogs. Hello smelly soup kitchen, sweltering street corners and trash-filled alleyways. I felt like a saint.
Two experiences from that month in the soup kitchen still stand out in my mind. One day the kitchen got a huge cardboard box filled with unpeeled baby shrimp. Needless to say, I, with the help of other volunteers, spent the whole morning sorting through and peeling a million little shrimp for the gumbo. I couldn't eat shrimp for years.

The second experience was far more influential than the shrimp incident, but it was also much more difficult. Part of our job at the soup kitchen was to come up with activities for the neighborhood kids. We would see the same kids almost every day, so we got to know them quite well. I became particularly fond of a young boy named Bruce.
One rainy day Bruce, who was normally very outgoing and laughed easily, sat motionless, all alone at a big table in the corner. We tried to get him to join in the fun with the other kids, but he refused to take part in the silly games. Eventually, I approached him and sat down to talk.
"Hi, Bruce. How are you?" No response. "What's wrong, Bruce? Are you sad?"
"No."
"Are you angry at somebody?"
"No."
"OK, Bruce. Are you tired?"
"No."
"Are you sick?"
Once again Bruce replied, "No."
I was beginning to get a little frustrated and starting to realize that maybe Bruce just wanted to be left alone. But then, he finally filled me in. He said, in his meek voice, "I'm hungry; my mom forgot to feed me."

I smiled as my heart simultaneously broke. "Well then, Bruce. Let's find you some food." Then, hand in hand, we went into the kitchen and found the only food that was around that time of day — a couple of doughnuts. Bruce eagerly ate the tasty sweets, and I felt like a hero.
When I got off the bus that day I hurried home to fill my mom in on my day. I relayed the story to her in a tone tinged with excitement. Then, slowly, I saw a look of concern and worry spread across my mother's face. She then sat down with me and said, "Laura, that's great that you were there for him today, but you have to realize that it is only one day. What's going to happen tomorrow, or next week or a month from now, when you are no longer there? You really have very little control over this little boy's diet, let alone his life."
Her words struck me hard, but in that instant I realized a great many things about what it means to "make a difference." For a brief moment I felt useless, and I wanted to give up my dreams of changing the world for the better. But that moment quickly passed when I realized that giving up my dreams would mean giving up a very important part of myself. Quitting was not an option.

It was then that I knew service was going to be a part of my life for the rest of my life. It's not about becoming a saint or a hero. It is about becoming a better person.
(642 words)