Mitzvah

Mitzvah is a word my grandmother often said to me since my childhood. It’s a Hebrew word that means “to do a good deed”. But according to my grandmother, it also had another meaning. This was the one she was always pointing out to me because she’d noticed how shy I was about letting people do things for me. “Linda, it’s a blessing to do a mitzvah for someone else, but sometimes it’s a blessing to let another person do something for you.” I never really understood what she meant until recently.

It was three months ago, and I'd just moved into an apartment for college in Brooklyn, New York, Several of my friends had offered to help me settle in after the moving men left, but I'd said I could manage. Letting them help did not fit my image of myself as a capable and independent woman of 21.

As December arrived, getting to school became more difficult. One day, snowflakes had been falling past my window for several hours when it came time to leave for class. I put on two sweaters, a coat, a wool hat and boots making for the bus stop. In this December storm it was a hard journey. As I tied around my neck the blue scarf that Grandma had knitted(编织) for me, I could almost hear her voice: “Why don't you see if you can find a lift?” A thousand reasons came into my mind: I don't know my neighbours; I feel funny asking for favours. Pride(自尊心) would not let me ask even though I came across three neighbours at the door of the apartment building. One of them was the woman living upstairs, and in her hand there was an obvious car key.

Result? An hour of waiting in the bitter cold before the bus finally arrived, followed by another half-hou journey. When I sneaked into the classroom, the class was almost over. If only I had taken the chance and asked for help! It would have been a 10-minute ride by car, Grandma would be shaking her head at my stubbornness(固执).

On the day of my final exam, I again walked to the bus stop through heavy snow.

As I pushed open the door of my apartment building, I found myself face to face with the woman from upstairs.

Jenny was the only child in her family. She had a quarrel (吵架) with her mother that afternoon and she ran out of the house angrily. She couldn’t help weeping sorrowfully when she thought of the scolding from her mother. Having wandered aimlessly in the street for hours, she felt a little hungry and wished for something to eat. She stood beside a stand (货摊) for a while, watching the middle-aged seller busy doing his business. However, with no money in hand, she gave a sigh and had to leave.

The seller behind the stand noticed the young girl and asked, “Hey, girl, you want to have the noodles?”

“Oh, yes, but I don’t have money on me.” she replied.

“That’s nothing. I’ll treat you today,” said the man, “Come in.”

The seller brought her a bowl of noodles, whose smell was so attractive. As she was eating, Jenny cried silently.

“What is it?” asked the man kindly.

“Nothing. Actually, I was just touched by your kindness!” said Jenny as she wiped her tears. “Even a stranger on the street will give me a bowl of noodles, while my mother drove me out of the house. She showed no care for me. She is so merciless compared to a stranger!”

Hearing the words, the seller smiled, “Girl, do you really think so? I only gave you a bowl of noodles and you thanked me a lot. But it is your mother who has raised you since you were a baby. Can you remember the times she cooked for you? Have you expressed your gratitude to her?”

Jenny sat there, speechless and numb with shock: she remembered her mother’s familiar face and weathered hands. “Why didn’t I think of that? A bowl of noodles from a stranger made me feel grateful. Why haven’t I thanked my mum for what she has done for me?”

On the way home. Jenny made up her mind to make an apology to her mother for her rudeness as soon as she arrived home.

Nearing the doorway, Jenny took a deep breath.

At that time, her mother came back and touched her hair gently, which called her mind back.

David was an 8-year-old boy living in Memphis with his family. When 4 years old, David got his face burnt by hot water, leaving scars (伤疤) on his cheeks. David was home-schooled by his mother, but as he grew older, his parents decided to send him to a private school. David was afraid of being made fun of, but his parents encouraged him to face everything bravely.

When he began school, other kids didn’t want to be his friends because of his scars. Luckily, a girl named Angel offered to sit with him and helped him go through that difficult time. They became good friends, chatting happily and sharing what they were interested in.

As time went by, David’s excellent learning ability and kind behavior made him popular with the students. Since David was good at science, his classmates would turn to him for help whenever they had problems with their studies. David was always glad to help them.

On Halloween, a variety of holiday activities were held on campus. Everyone wore costumes (化装服) they liked. David wore a mask (面具), and no one could tell it was him. Unrecognized, David was walking through the classroom backdoor when he overheard his classmate Tom’s comment, “David’s face is the ugliest one I have ever seen.” Hearing this, David felt upset and depressed. He ran away secretly. Angel happened to stand behind David and saw what happened, but it was too late to stop it. As David’s best friend at school, Angel thought David was a good boy who should be treated kindly.

A Clean-up Activity

In 1989, fresh out of high school, I had the difficult task of choosing a career path before college started in three months. In those days in Pakistan, there were limited options (选择): becoming a doctor or an engineer, or entering the financial world after getting a business degree. I wasn’t interested in engineering, so I was left with medicine or business. I couldn’t decide.

My uncle, an influential person in the family, suggested that I do a work placement to experience it for a month in an international company followed by a month in a hospital. After that, I could make a decision.

It seemed like a brilliant idea. I was accepted for a month’s placement at a foreign bank in Karachi. I got a feel for how the world of finance functioned, made new friends, and generally enjoyed the mostly easy-going work surroundings.

The month passed rapidly, and soon I began working at a leading hospital in Karachi. The experience couldn’t have been more different. The hospital had an intense (紧张的) environment. The days started early (at 7 am, compared to 9 am at the bank), and were heavy with endless duties. And the night calls! This was crazy, working all day, through the night, and again the next day.

I began thinking about my two experiences. The bank had offered a more relaxing atmosphere (氛围), better working hours and less stress. The hospital was full of excitement and unpredictability, but the studying and training was difficult. It seemed that the business option was going to win out.

Near the end of my month at the hospital, I was driving home after an especially busy night call. In front of me was a public bus, with college students sitting on the top. As the driver weaved through (穿梭) traffic, I could see the boys shaking from side to side.

Suddenly, a boy fell off the back of the bus.

The next day, when I went to hospital to see the boy, all his family got up, with grateful smiles on their faces.

Finally, I had done it. I had really done it. I played the drama successfully in the school hall. But a few months earlier, I would never have imagined acting in a play in front of hundreds of people. But when the time came, I got up on stage and faced one of my greatest fears and discovered I could do more than I ever thought. I found a new person inside me, a much more daring, outgoing person who had been hidden all along, just waiting for the opportunity to appear.

Without my teacher, Mrs. Green, I might never have found that opportunity. In the first grade, I was extremely shy. I had friends, but it just wasn’t in my personality to be very outgoing, even when I knew someone well. I was afraid I would do or say something wrong, so usually I just smiled and listened to other people’s conversations. I did well in school and I loved to write. However, I would escape into my writing, where I could be myself and never had to worry about what other people thought of me. In fact I was never shy in my stories.

My teacher, Mrs. Green, always encouraged me to write more. She told our class to go after our dreams and dig in with both hands. I think she was the first person to see my inner strength. One day, she announced that our class was going to perform a play she had written. “I’ll begin to invite everyone tomorrow,” she said. “I need someone who is not afraid to be on stage in front of a lot of people to play the lead part of Dorothy. Anybody wants to try?” Many excited hands shot up, and mine, of course, was not one of them. Mrs. Green smiled. “We’ll talk more about it tomorrow,” she said. Then the bell rang and my classmates slowly left the classroom.

When I was loading up my backpack, Mrs. Green invited me to her office.

Hearing Mrs. Green’s words, I realized that it was time to made a change.

Water — the Source of Life