Jerry Salcedo
Stories (4)
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Risen
The alarm clock goes off at 5:55 am, and it's time to get up. I snooze a few times to laze for a few more minutes of shut-eye, but then I remember what it is I do for a living, and I spring out of bed. As I get ready, I prepare myself to be the best version of myself. Although I may wake up feeling the angst of fighting my depressive feelings, although I rise up against the thoughts that tell me, "remain in bed; the world has nothing for you," I get up. I love my job because I've been allowed to do more by caring for children who need it. This job that I love motivated me to become more focused on becoming the "superhero" I wished existed when I was weak. I work with children who have endured more pain than an anime fight scene where the hero is on the brink of death. They come with baggage, and they come with much outward projection of what they feel. I love my job because these brave and brilliant young men and women look at me as some sort of bright light at times. Their need to test my patience and drive me towards my specific limit teaches me who I am. They teach me that if I am patient and listen to them, I can help. It vicariously sharpens mine as I allow them to be themselves and use their tools from their toolboxes. I love my job because it fires my soul's wick, and the light source that is my soul carries my hollow body as flames have a hot air balloon.
By Jerry Salcedo4 years ago in Journal
