My mother used to work in a charity organization which provided funds for needy children throughout the less-developed countries in the world. Her work brought her to exotic places like Southeast Asia, South Africa, India and South America. There she met many pitiful yet vibrant children. Whenever she returned from those trips, my mother would often convey to me how she felt about meeting and helping those needy children. Her eyes would be filled with tears of joy and sadness as she recounted her experiences. She would tell me how lucky I was to be born in a place where everything was within my reach. Her preferred advice, "You've been born here, where your life is almost perfect. When you grow older, give back to society. There are people out there who need us. If we don't help them, who else will?"
Even though I was already seventeen years old, I could never understand why she even bothered to work hard for those children. I was rather spoiled, usually getting the things I wanted and