I used to hate old people!

That was my old thinking. I used to sit as a disgruntled folder while the other kids would head down to the Huger Center, a home for the elderly to live and be taken care of, with apparent happiness in their galloping gate. But that was my old thinking.... at least hoped so.

While pondering what I could do to assist my community and gain additional volunteer hours for my AP English class. Helping the elderly sprinter across my mental. I knew I could assist the elderly at my local neighbourhood grocery store. Assisting the elderly in collecting and putting away their massive amounts of groceries.

I arrived at the grocery store at 8:00 a.m. on a Saturday . I quickly began looking for people to help. Lugging mountains of dog onto my shoulders for the elderly women with only dogs for companionship. Sweat quickly began to gather is assembly on my brow.

I can clearly recall a particular woman blah I must have been in her late eighties. I spotted her from across the store. She had been lugging the is massive amount of odd groceries across the store. She was clearly struggling. Shaking like an over-worked cellphone. I quickly scampered to her aid. While walking to her vehicle I struck up a conversation with.

"How has your day been ma'am?" I said.

"Oh you don't even know young man" she said.

She used that as an excuseto tell me all about herself.

By the end of her story I had already gotten done helping her with her groceries and ascertaining her identity, her disability and what had brought her to this store today.

Her story was truly touching. Her name was Margaret . She had been struggling so mildly because she had gotten in a vehicular accident a few years prior, where she had nearly broken her back and lost her life, had to endure nearly one hundred surgeries, and was told by a team of surgeons that she would never walk again. In just a few short years she years she had proven them all wrong, but was still struggling to gain back her independence. I could sense the pain in her voice and even the way she walked, which lacked the suddelty and grace of a dancer.

I realized that many of the elderly customers had similar stories of heroism and strife. That is when I realized my juvenile fear of the elderly had been greatly displace. I have learned to admire them for their resilience and stridently had endured and overcame.

Before I knew it six hours had passed and my volunteer time was over and it was time to go home. I left with a new comprehension and respect for their long and often times strenuous lives.