I often feel like my life doesn't have enough purpose. I work so hard on things for me, I often forget to reach out to others.
A few weeks ago, my FHE family reminded me why I feel a need to reach out at all.
We couldn't all be there, but a small minority of our family members drove on over to the local food bank to volunteer for a few hours. It's a great place to volunteer at, by the way, so if you're living in the Provo area, I recommend giving them a visit sometimes. Check them out at Community Action Services.
As it was, families and individuals had been donating enough cans to give us volunteers something to do for several hours. I bet we could have worked for several more hours had the woman in charge not needed to lock up for the night.
In we came, and at the boxes we got, sorting the cans into different categories like vegetables, fruits, meats, beans, and others. Our group was certainly the fastest, emptying our first unsorted box in record time before moving on to the rest.
We did this for a couple of hours, churning out organization like an archivist close to retirement. Even then, we felt like our efforts were insufficient. After all, looking around told us there was so much more work left to do. In the end, we recognized we'd saved much time and effort for anyone else coming in behind us.
I felt good as we walked out. I know my pitiful efforts at the food bank barely put a dent into world poverty, or even local poverty as it stands. However, as I spent my free time ignoring homework and personal aspirations, I felt like I'd found a purpose, at least for a moment.
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