Gitanjali

There is a memory that sticks around. Is this where the wish to help people began? I recall in class, around 6th grade, a classmate lay her head on the table and was crying. She was upset. I don’t recall why.

I went and spoke to her, pointing things out on her table as one would do to a child, in a hurried excited voice. She laughed.

As I look back, making someone laugh when sad is the thing I love the most.