My Personal Essay

Spoiled

I am one of nine children, and for this reason my family was never “well off.” We never had “stylish” clothes, and we didn’t have the newest toys. In spite of this I was happy. I knew that I didn’t need these things to find happiness. But still, deep down, I considered myself poor. I didn’t like being the one person who couldn’t go somewhere or do something because I didn’t have the money. I wanted to be like all the other families who could do more things than my family could afford. As I matured I realized how blessed I really was, but it wasn’t until I went on a mission trip to Guatemala that I realized how much I really have. By going on this trip I discovered how spoiled I really am.

I thought I knew what to expect when I went to Guatemala. I knew that I would be coming face to face with poverty, but I never imagined the effect it would have on me. One night while in Guatemala the mission team I was with went on a house visit with a local missionary. The house we went to visit was not accessible by road, so we all walked there together. The journey was long and winding. It was almost like we were in a maze. The path we walked on was narrow and muddy. I had to be carful so that I would not slip and fall. As we walked we were surrounded by large corn stalks. In one area there were little children peaking out from behind them. They watched attentively, but were to shy to come close.

Soon we arrived at the house of Delia and Carlos. Delia and Carlos live with their aunt. Many years ago their father left them and more recently their mother passed away. Delia and Carlos live in a little house made out of wooden planks and a tin roof. The entire house is not much bigger than my family’s living room. It consists of three rooms: a kitchen, a room to sleep in, and a sort of entry room. When we arrived Delia and Carlos were in the entry room. We all stood there in the entry room as the missionary we were with told us a little about them. This is a moment that I will never forget. As we stood there Delia’s eyes were sparkling. It was as if she was on top of the world. When the missionary talked to her she would smile with a smile that covered every inch of her face. Her smile was so warm and friendly that the very thought of it makes me smile. The missionary told us that Delia was always so happy and that no matter what happens her eyes always sparkle the same way. I was so amazed. Here was a little girl who lived in a leaky house with one light bulb, a girl who was left without parents. And yet without being told you would never have known. She was happy with what she had, and she was grateful for every little thing she was given.

I stood there feeling so ashamed. How could I have thought of myself as poor? How could I have wanted more? How could I have been so ungrateful and unsatisfied? I have both my parents and I have never gone to bed hungry. In fact I am spoiled. As I stood there I was filled with respect. I respected Delia for her contentment and satisfaction with what she was given. Truly she knew more about these concepts than I did.

As I stood there I was challenged to be as grateful as Delia. If she can be content with what she has then surely I can be content with what I have. That night I was challenged not only to be grateful for what I have, but also to be a good steward of what I have been blessed with. There are so many people in this world with as little as Delia, but for some reason I have been given more. I don’t want to take this gift for granted. I don’t want to think of it as my right. Instead, I want to make the most of what I have been given. I want to help people when they need help. I want to be giving and not selfish. But most of all I want to be as content and joyful as Delia. As I stood there that night I knew that I would never again consider myself poor.