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A Day of Joy This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine.


     Two or three days a weekmy grandmother works at a nursing home. She is always talking about how much sheenjoys helping the elderly. She serves them their dinner and talks to them whilethey eat. Even though the pay is poor and the job makes her back ache, shewouldn't trade her job for the world. At one point she had a better paying job ata bank, but hated it because she would rather serve all her friends at thenursing home. She knows everyone's name and what they like and don't like. Sheadores her job and nothing makes her happier.

One day I decided to go withher and help out to get hours for my confirmation. To be honest, I was a littlenervous. I was surrounded by old people in a funny smelling building, looking atfood that made me want to starve myself.

After setting the table, thecrowd arrived, some walking, some in wheelchairs. I began going around in my"cute little uniform" I still wore from school, serving drinks, cuttingsandwiches and opening cups of soup. Some of the people were cranky, and trustme, I don't blame them. I would be too if I had to eat the stuff they calledfood. But most of them were the sweetest people I had ever met, and at least oneat each table stopped me to talk.

They told stories of their pasts,yesterday's bingo game, anything that came to mind. The whole time they had bigsmiles on their faces, their eyes sparkling like stars. They loved having a newface to talk to. One woman even showed me her decorated egg from a program she'dattended earlier that morning. It was a great feeling to see them so happythrough a simple act of helping with dinner. No hard work, no suffering, justserving them and giving them a friendly hello made their whole dayworthwhile.

I now know why my grandmother loves her job; seeing thosepeople happy made me happy too because I knew I brought them joy. Being there isnot so much a job, but a privilege. It isn't every day you get to affect someonelike that. For many of those people, my grandmother and I were their onlycompany. I will always remember that day, and I hope to go back again soon.




This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.






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