why is it that when i am finally good and honest and earnest and ambitious and happy the people begin to worry?
Mother, I am trying to be the perfect daughter you so dearly deserve. Honest. No tricks whatsoever. I want to clean the kitchen because when it is nice and tidy I feel good for what I have accomplished. I want to put flowers in the windowsill and by where you do your puzzles because I know you wish you could spend the whole day outside with them. I want to organize the books on gardening on your shelves because one day I want to read them and I know I should do something nice with them if I am going to have that pleasure. I want to **** the garden outside because I want to be able to grow plants for our family and I want to grow the plants because I know we will all enjoy eating them. I want to clean my room a little late into the night because it helps me think and I feel content when I see that my floor is not dusty and my plants are healthy and my clothes are hung up in a row. I want to pick up after Aiden in the recreation room because I know how it feels to be young and in a hurry to do anything but chores. I want to stack up the DVDs in the cabinet because they look appealing that way and I hope our family gets together to watch some of the older films we used to love. I want to detangled all the cords by the computer because I know it´s frustrating when you're trying to figure out which is which and why–doesn't–this–one–work? I want to put all the scrap papers into the recycling because I know you gave up on getting people to reuse them and they'll be ashes if I don't lift a finger.
I want to do these things because they benefit everyone. I want to be the kind of person that helps a family, The kind that helps a community, The kind that helps the world. And it starts here in the home.