Can you please tell me if my essay has sufficient punch and is interesting? Is my passion coming forth through what I've written?
The soles of my shoes have now assumed a new shape. They were brand new when I was born, but are still sturdy and rearing to go, even today. I began the race of my life as a shy school girl who at first didn't even know how to speak English. I remember, I was in the 2nd grade in my new school and I had mistaken the word "spoke" for "smoke". My face would've been redder than a cherry then. From then on, I knew I just had to improve my English. I narrated the incident to my parents and they sat with me for an hour daily to overcome my difficulty. I hadn't even made any friends until then. Only once I gained some confidence, did I start opening up and make some friends.
Not only English, but I also worked hard at home during school to see to it that I always stood first which made me one among the top 3 always. I used to study things before hand and go to school to impress my teacher. If I look back at all this now, I realize that being on top had mattered so much to me from that point in life, at that tender age. I wasn't competitive but I just always wanted to stand out. But, over time, as the path changed, my shoes started undergoing a different type of wear and tear. Seeing my grades, my classmates started seeking my help.
I used to help them with various subjects like Mathematics and Physics. It was kind of like a synergy since I could also revise my studies by helping them. I got a lot of pleasure and feeling of responsibility towards them by helping them. I didn't get any remuneration, obviously, but it still gave me an immense sense of satisfaction. This made me realize that helping others and making a difference in their lives, in whichever possible way mattered a lot to me. It gave my life a purpose.
This was my passion. It got fuelled even more when I got appreciation for my work. My friends would come out smiling from their exam halls and thank me. As I grew up, this passion started engulfing me. Whenever I used to see anyone needy or specially abled, there was this compulsive nagging within me to lend my hand out to them and take care of them. On many occasions, a tear or two had trickled down my eyes during the encounter. This made me realize that probably the mission of my existence on earth was to make it a better place for these people to whom life had been cruel.
After I got my job, my passion was pulling me with itchy hands asking me to begin as now I didn't need to depend on anyone to fuel my passion. With my first paycheck, I made a donation to Save the Children, India. I also started keeping track of all their activities to make sure my money was being used for the right cause. My job involves a lot of travel and Jet Airways flights in India have an inflight donation option. That envelope is so irresistible that the first thing I always do on getting buckled is making a donation. Though not a sizable one, but I know that it will still make a difference.
It is not that I am suffering from any obsessive compulsive disorder for donating but the thing is that I want to do my bit in enriching lives, however I can. My job doesn't give me enough time to actively participate in these activities because I've just sorted of started my professional career but one day, I will work only for this. In what began as a means to revise my lessons, I ended up learning one of the life's greatest lessons that there is no greater happiness than giving happiness to others. This will be the dream ground for my shoes.