I was sitting in my living room, eyes glued to the television, watching the continued news coverage on the COVID-19 pandemic. Having just been told that me and my classmates would indeed not be returning to school after being sent home a month before in March 2020, I, along with much of the world, looked to the news for any kind of information I could find. As I was watching, one story caught my attention––the news broadcast showed footage of hundreds of people lined up outside local food banks, waiting their turn to get food for their families, only to get denied at the door due to a shortage in incoming food donations. As some of those in line were interviewed, the images of their distressed faces and the anguish in their eyes were etched into my memory. This wasn’t the first time I saw such anxious and trouble ridden expressions, I recalled, as I thought back to a time before COVID, or even before my days in high school.

I was around 6 years old when my mom decided to take me with her to a local soup kitchen our church was associated with. She volunteered there regularly, but this was the first time I was allowed to come along. I watched my mom as she helped prepare, and eventually serve a meal to those at the soup kitchen. I remember roaming around aimlessly, taking in the savory smells coming from the kitchen, and observing the weary, distressed expressions of many of those who were coming through the doors. After the meal was served and people began to trickle out of the building, I found my mom wiping down some tables, stopping occasionally to wipe the sweat from her brow. I asked, “Is this what you do every month? It looks like a lot of hard work.” Smiling, she replied, “When I was growing up, your Nani and Nana taught me the importance of serving others. It is important to always use your blessings to help others in need.”

As I sat in my living room, thinking back to that day over 10 years ago, I thought about what my mom had told me. As I watched the continued news coverage of the food bank donation shortages, I knew that I had to do something. After spending the month working with my friends to organize and collect donations for a socially distanced food drive, the time finally came to drop off the donations. As I was driving to the Salvation Army of Allentown, I remembered the looks of desperation and distress etched into my memory from the news story I was watching just over a month ago. I remembered my mom’s smile of gratitude despite her clear exhaustion after a long day of volunteering. I remembered what my Nani and Nana had passed to my mom, and what she had passed to me.

When I finally reached the food bank, I began unloading the items with the volunteers. Despite my long day lugging boxes of donations into and out of my car for what felt like an eternity, I caught myself smiling the same way my mom had over 10 years ago, feeling a sense of gratitude for everything that I had. I immediately understood where my mom’s smile came from after that long day at the soup kitchen. I had experienced the same sense of contentment she felt at the soup kitchen. I believe in the importance of deciding to use my blessings to help others. I believe in the power that lies behind simple acts of service. But most importantly, I believe that the most fulfilling experiences in life come from acts of service and giving back to others.