Inspiration

Inspiration

         I was at West Potomac High school this morning taking my AP chemistry test. After the test was over, I stood behind the glass door waiting for my mother to pick me up. I stood there observing girls giggling and guys flirting wondering to myself what these students’ goals were. I then started thinking of my own goals. Of IB and how doomed I was for my exam on Monday. I though of what classes I would take in college and what car I’d be driving…

         Then came a boy about my age tapping the floor in front of him with a long thin stick. He had big deep blue eyes that were wide open, searching for something to see. He tapped the floor with his stick gently to insure that no one was in front of him and then went on walking. On his other arm, he held a stack of books, Braille I suppose. He was wearing a hearing aid on both his ears and he walked alone. He looked determined and confident as though he knew exactly where he was going. He did not speak and he did not smile. He just walked…tapping away…

         Suddenly my thoughts vanished and I realized how utterly insignificant my worries were. I felt ashamed for ever thinking of my future. For ever aspiring to be anything…

         We sit here and complain about how unfortunate our lives are. We complain about how many books we have to read for IB English and how IB has taken our social lives away. We say that we are “depressed” and that our lives “suck”. But have we once thought that there are children our age who cannot complain about reading assignments or “depression” simply because they have never seen letters? Because they have never seen a smile?  We fight over how “cheap” our hotel is for junior senior party but that boy…he cannot walk without thinking.

         Now I think. I think of his childhood. While I was learning how to ride a bike and tie a ribbon, he was learning how to walk without falling. He was learning that concepts of light and color exist although all he saw was darkness. He probably never got to play soccer or sit on a swing. He probably never got to swim or dance. He probably never learned to smile. But you see he does not complain.

         What does that make me? A whining bitch. Who cares if I do not get everything I want. Who cares if my best friend blogged shit about me? Who cares if my brother no longer lives with me? Why does that matter? Oh how insignificant our worries are. We can see, hear, smell, and feel. We can smile, frown, and dress our selves… he can not. Yet, he is determined. He is working hard to be more than just an impaired child. He is better than anything I will ever be…

         It says in the Quran that we are all very fortunate, despite our misfortunes. That we must thank god for all he has given us even when we are experiencing “depression”. I never truly understood this until today. Nevertheless, it also says that humans complain. So I suppose…this only confirmed my religion and inspired me to do better…