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When did my passion for people begin?  I really can’t answer that.  For as far back as I can remember I’ve always cared about others.  I’ve always wanted to do “something” big that would make a difference in the lives of others for the better.  Have I always succeeded?  Probably not.  As much as I want to be a help, I’m human.  I’m sure that in some cases I’ve been more of a hindrance than a help.  That doesn’t keep me from trying.  To be a help that is. 🙂

At the age of 17, my then boyfriend and I, decided after much talk that we should just be friends.  We were just too different, in every imaginable way, to continue being anything more.  That decision was solidified when I overheard his mother chatting with mine.  I didn’t hear everything, just this in passing, “I’m glad they were able to figure it out on their own.  She’s a wonderful girl; they just want totally different things out of life.  He just wants to find a nice girl, settle down and have a family.  She wants to save the world.”

I went off to ponder that for awhile, and I realized that it was partly true.  At the time I didn’t believe that it could happen in one’s lifetime.  And perhaps a part of me still believes that.  If I were Genghis Khan, Adolph Hitler, Joseph Stalin, or the like, then making a huge difference wouldn’t seem to far-fetched.  It seems so much easier for people to understand why evil people do the things that they do, than it is to believe that there truly are people out there who do what they do simply out of love.

I’d like to change that.

 

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