I volunteer at a local soup kitchen and have since I was eight. Now, at 15, I've grown quite close to it. I became involved with My Brother's Table (MBT) because my mother is involved as a high school teacher, and monthly takes a group of about 14 students. I'd tag along to help out. But since I was little, I couldn't do the dishes or the hot food, but I made myself useful by serving drinks or just talking to people. Everyone I talk to has stories to tell in their own special way.

We arrive at MBT at about 4: 15 p.m. We make salads, do desserts, fill the juices, anything and everything needed for that night's meal. Around 5: 30 p.m. people begin coming. Elderly and children first, then everyone else. We usually get home around 8: 15 p.m.; everyone is tired but in great spirits.

Of course, it's sad and heart-breaking but well worth it. You leave with a warm glow inside and a tinge of guilt for everything you take for granted. But all in all, you know you're helping someone else, which leaves you with this feeling I can't describe. It is something you should feel for yourself.

I definitely encourage everyone to look into local services, shelters, soup kitchens, so you can have this feeling as well.