I was just outside the Park Street T stop when a woman in a burgundy coat approached me. Although her smile seemed forced, there was a genuineness to her voice that was refreshing. She held a vibrant red rose in her hand.
“Excuse me, miss? Do you by chance have a dollar to spare in exchange for this flower? My daughter is waiting for me to come home with groceries and I’m out of money.”
As I dug through my purse praying that I had some cash on me, she complimented my scarf. Once I found the single dollar bill, I quickly handed it to her and she gave me the rose. She thanked me. She was grateful.
“No problem,” I said. “It’s a beautiful flower.” She looked at me one last time and said, “God bless you.”
While walking away and looking down at the fragile rose in my hands, I couldn’t help but contemplate whether it was difficult for the woman to ask me for money. At the same time, I felt fulfilled by giving her that dollar bill, as if I had done her a huge favor. But in all honesty, what could a dollar get her? How could I, a young student who has been given such an abundance of opportunities, be so happy with myself for giving away a dollar that I didn’t even know I had? I realized that she was doing what she needed to do, just like everyone else is. I wondered how she got to where she is now. Then I remembered how I got to where I am now.
The truth is, I’ve worked hard. I’ve gotten good grades, been well rounded enough, gotten a job, and earned the spot at Boston University that I have now. However, I am incredibly lucky. I am fortunate to have parents that care enough about my education to push me to do my best. I am fortunate to have a family willing to sacrifice as much as necessary to make it financially possible for me to be here. I am fortunate to have been raised in a loving, encouraging environment that shaped the big dreams I’m still driven by today. I am privileged.
Acknowledging this fact does not discredit my journey. After all, I could not have gotten to where I am now without being me. I am made up of my mistakes, my failures, my triumphs, and my opportunities. Just as the woman with the rose is not defined by her desperation, I am not defined by my status. I am not bound to my roots, but I have grown from them. I will be empowered by the daily recognition of what I have been given to become the best version of myself. I will remember where I came from while discovering where I want to go. I will remember this rose once I have blossomed.
