The Helping Hand
In life, reaching out for assistance can be challenging when you’re feeling down and hopeless. Doubts about trusting the extended hand may arise, fearing it won’t endure the weight of your burdens. Fear, vanity, and pride often hinder people from accepting help, despite outstretched hands.
I live by the belief that we have two hands—one for helping ourselves and another for helping others. Although I’ve faced rejection, I never take it personally. Recently, when seeking support, I encountered empty slaps that pushed me away. Despite the potential loss of faith, I remembered my own mantra: two hands, one for helping myself and one for helping others.
Experiencing a deepening depression, my circle narrowed. A moment of clarity came from an unexpected source—an 8-year-old girl, my granddaughter, who reminded me not to be sad because I always made her smile. Her simple words and genuine love became a beacon against the dark passenger of depression.
My plate is still full, things teetering at the edges, but standing with me is a little girl whose compassion surpasses many adults. Tomorrow, I’ll rise, extend my hand again, and hope that if it’s ever rejected, her sweet voice will echo in my head, reaffirming the power of two hands and the purity of a child’s love.
#love#grandma#depression#helpinghands
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