I often spend time thinking about how I can help others. My earliest childhood memory of giving was at the age of 9. There was a large and less fortunate family in our neighborhood. We were poor, but they were what you would call dirt poor! It always surprises me to find out that there is always someone in much worse shape than you are. The older siblings were known as the bullies of the neighborhood. However, one day, I came into contact with the younger two sisters. They were somewhere between the ages of 6 and 3. As they approached, I noticed their uncombed hair and soiled clothes. Inwardly, I just wanted them to be clean. So, I invited them in, gave them a bathe, and combed and braided their hair. Not sure what ever became of them, but I felt better knowing that I had given back.
The secret to living is giving. We grow, so we can give.