My grandmother, whom I fondly call gran’mum, took me in when I was six months old. It was just about the time she was diagnosed with Rheumatoid Arthritis and I stayed with her until I was three.
When I was about nine months old I was ill and taken to a neighborhood clinic. Unknown to gran’mum, the doctor who attended to me was a quack and had no idea what to do in my peculiar situation. One bad injection and several hours later, my condition grew worse. Braving the midnight cold, gran’mum carried me on her back, scaled over a five foot fence all the while risking being caught by the night guards, and trekked for miles to the only teaching hospital in town. Each arthritic step shot searing pain into gran’mum’s joints but she kept going, putting one foot in front of the other to keep me alive.
Her singular act of sacrifice is the reason I am alive today. When I think about what she did I am reminded over and over again that life itself was made for giving.
For each of us to go the extra mile to impact the world in whatever capacity we are in. As a mother, a social worker, a sales rep, a leader …it doesn’t matter what you are called; you owe it to yourself and the universe to do all you can, in your full strength and capacity, to give your all, to make a difference.