"A good deed is its own reward," my parents constantly reminded me. Advice is something that I embrace, especially when it comes from building one's character and personality. My parents continuously voice to me that when you help someone now, do it out of the kindness of your heart, and in the future, they or circumstances might surprise you.
This past summer, my brother and I were going out to Walmart, and as we left our apartment, we saw a black leather wallet with a driver's license, debit cards, money. Our first impression wasn't to take the wallet and reserve it for ourselves but instead discover a way to return it to the person that lost it. "We should return the wallet as soon as possible!" I said as I imagined that the person who lost it must be searching for it rigorously. "Okay, let's drive to the police station and give the officer the wallet we found," my brother said. The policewoman described that she would be happy to return it. I felt at ease about returning the wallet because, in my heart, I wasn't only glad that someone was receiving back something they lost but also that I had learned from my parent's advice.
However, I had yet to fulfill every part of the advice. Several months later, I lost my wallet. I was genuinely devastated because the items in my black leather wallet with forest animals were sentimental and memorable. I didn't care about the tremendous amount of money or my cards in my wallet, just the ID pictures. My ID pictures illustrated my little fifth-grade self to now and how much I changed during each year. I shuffled through my under my bed, through my closet, and threw my clothes in my room. I retraced my steps from my doorstep to my living room repeatedly to find my wallet, and I couldn't. I stormed outside, near my dad's car, in which I last carried my wallet. I dug my shoes through the snow in places I recognized my wallet couldn't be found because I felt so defeated, so overwhelmed, and so distressed.
Nevertheless, my mom wasn't. She reminded me of the advice that she gave me about people returning the kindness you give to others. She was confident that I would find my wallet, and I was hesitant as to why. All my thoughts rushed to the belief that not all people are good in the world, and maybe the person that did find my wallet was one of those people. Refusing to believe her, I went back to turning my house upside down from searching every single inch of my house from the ceiling to the floor. Crushed, I called my apartment's main office to determine if anyone had found my wallet. I thought, "No one would find it. The chances are too slim." I was wrong. The woman inquired me to describe the wallet. I expressed that, "It was a black leather wallet with forest animals!" When she communicated that "I found it," my heart sank. Every part of my body screamed in joy, my eyes wide open, my hands shaking, my heart pounding so hard I could barely catch my breath. "Someone found the wallet and returned it. I'll be waiting when I decided to pick it up," the woman explained. "Yes!" I screamed. I hung up the phone. "She found it, she found, she found it!" I shouted. I sprinted out the door to get my wallet. When I came back inside, my mother was sitting on the couch. With a big smile on my face, I said to her, "I found it, mom!" She smiled back at me and said, "A good deed is its own reward."
"A good deed is its own reward," my parents constantly reminded me. Advice is something that I embrace, especially when it comes from building one's character and personality. My parents continuously voice to me that when you help someone now, do it out of the kindness of your heart, and in the future, they or circumstances might surprise you.
This past summer, my brother and I were going out to Walmart, and as we left our apartment, we saw a black leather wallet with a driver's license, debit cards, money. Our first impression wasn't to take the wallet and reserve it for ourselves but instead discover a way to return it to the person that lost it. "We should return the wallet as soon as possible!" I said as I imagined that the person who lost it must be searching for it rigorously. "Okay, let's drive to the police station and give the officer the wallet we found," my brother said. The policewoman described that she would be happy to return it. I felt at ease about returning the wallet because, in my heart, I wasn't only glad that someone was receiving back something they lost but also that I had learned from my parent's advice.
However, I had yet to fulfill every part of the advice. Several months later, I lost my wallet. I was genuinely devastated because the items in my black leather wallet with forest animals were sentimental and memorable. I didn't care about the tremendous amount of money or my cards in my wallet, just the ID pictures. My ID pictures illustrated my little fifth-grade self to now and how much I changed during each year. I shuffled through my under my bed, through my closet, and threw my clothes in my room. I retraced my steps from my doorstep to my living room repeatedly to find my wallet, and I couldn't. I stormed outside, near my dad's car, in which I last carried my wallet. I dug my shoes through the snow in places I recognized my wallet couldn't be found because I felt so defeated, so overwhelmed, and so distressed.
Nevertheless, my mom wasn't. She reminded me of the advice that she gave me about people returning the kindness you give to others. She was confident that I would find my wallet, and I was hesitant as to why. All my thoughts rushed to the belief that not all people are good in the world, and maybe the person that did find my wallet was one of those people. Refusing to believe her, I went back to turning my house upside down from searching every single inch of my house from the ceiling to the floor. Crushed, I called my apartment's main office to determine if anyone had found my wallet. I thought, "No one would find it. The chances are too slim." I was wrong. The woman inquired me to describe the wallet. I expressed that, "It was a black leather wallet with forest animals!" When she communicated that "I found it," my heart sank. Every part of my body screamed in joy, my eyes wide open, my hands shaking, my heart pounding so hard I could barely catch my breath. "Someone found the wallet and returned it. I'll be waiting when I decided to pick it up," the woman explained. "Yes!" I screamed. I hung up the phone. "She found it, she found, she found it!" I shouted. I sprinted out the door to get my wallet. When I came back inside, my mother was sitting on the couch. With a big smile on my face, I said to her, "I found it, mom!" She smiled back at me and said, "A good deed is its own reward."