What matters to you and why?
I pull my maroon polo over my head and bend down to the tie the laces on my spotless white shoes. Clipping my identification badge onto my pocket, I glance at myself in the mirror to make sure no strands of hair had escaped my ponytail. Once arriving at my destination, I step through the automatic doors of the Los Robles Hospital and Medical Center and take the elevators to the oncology unit. With a box of holiday cards, made by La Reina High School's Future Scientists Club, tucked under my arm, I approach the first door to my left. "Volunteer," I declared, knocking on the frame. I entered a dimly lit room and went to the patient's bedside, wishing him a happy holiday season and handing him a card. As I was about to leave, he stopped me and motioned me toward the armchair in the corner. I took a seat as he whispered, "I don't get many people to talk to." Though my conversation with him lasted no more than ten minutes, he had thanked me for brightening his day with my words of kindness. I routinely made my way around the floor and conversed with patients, watching their faces light up at the Christmas cards I had brought them. Working with these patients weekly, I have connected with them on a personal level, hearing stories of survival and stories of pain. It is these tales that motivate me further to pursuing cancer research, so that I may, one day, further touch the lives of cancer stricken individuals. It is these smiles that push me to help others-to see their joy that, as a result, brings me happiness.
I pull my maroon polo over my head and bend down to the tie the laces on my spotless white shoes. Clipping my identification badge onto my pocket, I glance at myself in the mirror to make sure no strands of hair had escaped my ponytail. Once arriving at my destination, I step through the automatic doors of the Los Robles Hospital and Medical Center and take the elevators to the oncology unit. With a box of holiday cards, made by La Reina High School's Future Scientists Club, tucked under my arm, I approach the first door to my left. "Volunteer," I declared, knocking on the frame. I entered a dimly lit room and went to the patient's bedside, wishing him a happy holiday season and handing him a card. As I was about to leave, he stopped me and motioned me toward the armchair in the corner. I took a seat as he whispered, "I don't get many people to talk to." Though my conversation with him lasted no more than ten minutes, he had thanked me for brightening his day with my words of kindness. I routinely made my way around the floor and conversed with patients, watching their faces light up at the Christmas cards I had brought them. Working with these patients weekly, I have connected with them on a personal level, hearing stories of survival and stories of pain. It is these tales that motivate me further to pursuing cancer research, so that I may, one day, further touch the lives of cancer stricken individuals. It is these smiles that push me to help others-to see their joy that, as a result, brings me happiness.