One of the many things I like to do in my spare time is to volunteer. When my daughter was in the primary grades of elementary school, I loved going into the classroom to read with the students. Now that she’s getting older, volunteering in the classroom only consists of attending fieldtrips. I feel like a part of me is missing without that extra help. I miss seeing the smiling faces when the kids realize they get to read with someone special.
Volunteering has taken a twist this last year. I’ve been more involved in my church, heading up the committee for the children and family ministries, and volunteering in Sunday School. I’m back to teaching the kids, but this time with lessons of God and life. I’m okay with this change. I moved from one form of helping kids to another. My heart is still fulfilled with smiling faces, laughter, and inquisitive minds.
One volunteering job that has not wavered over the past nine years is my passion for fundraising for cancer research. It seems that our family and friends are developing cancer at alarming rates. I know that without funding cancer research, we wouldn’t be able to utilize the latest blood tests to help detect cancer at an earlier stage. We wouldn’t be able to try the newest radiation treatments that focus only on the area of the tumor. We wouldn’t be able to take the drug that would give us a better outcome with the least amount of side-effects. You see, funding cancer research is crucial for furthering cancer fighting advancements. I’ve put more effort into this cause than I have anything else for numerous years.
This year is a little different. I seemed to have misplaced the motivation I use to keep me going. My mind and heart are being pulled in too many directions. I have a love and a desire to move in each direction, and to do each job successfully. However, I started to see that love weaken from what was once strong. I began to feel that my volunteering efforts may need a change.
I recently sat down to dinner with my husband and daughter. I expressed my concerns in hopes that my husband could offer a little added guidance. Instead, I found my daughter in tears. The passion I have for funding cancer research has also became a passion of my daughter’s. She felt that walking away from that passion, even if it was just a small break, meant that she had to walk away too.
At a time when I struggled looking for the motivation I needed, I had it sitting there in front of me the whole time. It only took me a week after that conversation to realize it. My daughter is my motivation. It’s not my grandma, mom, or sister. It’s not my dad’s grandparents or one of our favorite family friends. Nope. It was my daughter the whole time. You see, I hope to keep raising funds for cancer research because there might be a day my daughter needs the latest and greatest treatments available. She’s my motivation, after all; she deserves only the best.
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