A Stand Once Taken

In my nearly sixteen years of life, I recall taking many stands. However, upon recollecting, they all seem either unimportant or idiotic. For instance, the stands that I have taken against bullies do not carry much gravity, or because of the sheer futility. So instead I will speak of a stand that I have always taken, not just once. One that surely should be considered a given, if I am more than an acquaintance. I stand for rectification, setting things straight, or, more specifically, making everything that I possibly can better.

As a broad example, practically all of my closest friends come to me with their problems, at least to be ear to hear them out. However, sometimes I can directly assist, in which case, I offer my help. Whether they accept my offer or not does not matter, I typically do what I can either way.

As a specific example, one of my closest friends once came to me with a problem concerning some people that absolutely hate her. They had told her that they were going to beat her up, or send some people to, if she did not comply with their demands. She was completely distraught, and almost in a complete panic. So after I calmed her down, I logically explained that they were obviously bluffing. No self-respecting guy would attack, or send some people to attack, somebody nearly two years younger. Moreover, he was over eighteen at the time, meaning he would face jail time. Finally, I explained to her exactly how fast word would travel concerning his part in the occurrence. His wonderful reputation would be tarnished permanently. And I told her that if all else failed, (against my better judgment) that I myself would be there to protect her. After awhile she began proclaiming how she was not afraid anymore, and about how she was then sure that he would not do anything. Honestly, I was a bit afraid then, being half afraid she would run up and kick him or something! Half joking!

Another instance in which I tried to make everything better occurred at a church camp I attended one year. This attempt failed miserably. As I was exploring the campus in my free time, I stumbled upon a group of people surrounding someone that appeared to be crying. I immediately ran over and asked the person weeping what was wrong. Everybody in the crowd started looking at each other as if they were thinking, “What the heck?! Who’s this guy?” Then somebody in the crowd told me the truth of the matter. They were practicing for their skit. Feeling like a fool, I apologized for interrupting, and went on my merry way, being sure that my cheeks were redder than a beet with embarrassment. I heard them laughing behind me.

So why do I want to help basically anyone, random or friend? The fact is, I hate seeing people in mental anguish or distress. I also enjoy the feeling of seeing someone overcome whatever obstacle they face. I suppose the effect of doing this so much is that the action has become a part of me, just one mere facet of my personality. So all in all, I suppose that I stand for the solution, or perhaps the way to get there.