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Selflessness And Selflessness

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"Selflessness is what has brought me the most happiness." I heard this statement countless times from my grandmother while growing up. She was constantly providing for others in public settings by organizing events through our church or helping other elderly people load their groceries in their car on her weekly shopping trip. She was just as giving in private settings with nobody around to note her selflessness, rarely taking time to do anything for herself before she made sure everyone else was content and happy. “Is there anything I can get for you? Anything I can do for you?” I could never completely wrap my head her desire to always help in some way, but always admired it. I, like so many others, knew it felt good to make people happy and give to those in need, but I would watch her gladly sacrifice her own happiness for the happiness of others, and I would question how she could possibly enjoy doing it every single day, until one incidence of total selflessness made it clear. On a warm, summer morning spent with my mom going to get coffees, I felt the cool breeze wrapping itself around me as the wind entered through the rolled down window of the car. As we continued through the crowded weekend streets, we came upon a man sitting on the side of the street holding a sign reading “Anything will help.” Although this was not my first time seeing someone in need, desperate enough to practically beg for help on the side of the road, it was the first time seeing one in Dublin. My mom, blowing him off as if he was invisible, casually carried on driving, but as we approached, I couldn’t help but stare. He had bright, blue eyes that shone like the sea and were visible all the way from my seat in the car. Despite all the surrounding stimuli, a car horn blaring at the four way stop, the restaurant sign flashing to my right, and the thumping of music obnoxiously blaring from the car next to us, I couldn’t help but focus on them. They looked like they held so many experiences and I wondered what all they had seen, and how it compared to what I had seen in my life. I began to feel increasingly sorry for him. For every passing second we were stopped at the intersection, and for every second longer I gazed out

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