Volunteer work to me initially, much like with most people I grew up with seemed pointless and

just unnecessary trouble. I believed it was something people did simply out of self interest. That
they did it to gain more fame, present themselves as some sort of “saintly” figure, or simply to
have a better chance to enter into a good college by having “volunteer work” on their college
applications. As I grew into my teenage years, I believed in one truth only. That people are
selfish and only do things out of self interest, that no one genuinely did something to help
another person,unless helping said person had some personal benefit to them in the long run.
That all changed a few years back, when I went to Syria as a UNICEF volunteer for an entire
week.

Every year, UNICEF would come to our school and pick a few volunteers from grades 11 and
12, the volunteers were tasked with gathering spare clothes, food,anything that they could spare
and to donate it to UNICEF, then they would be taken to a country where UNICEF was offering
it’s humanitarian services to help as volunteers under the guidance of an official,experienced
UNICEF member who would chaperone them. Initially I was vehemently refusing to go. I was
about to go to a war stricken country and possibly one of the most dangerous countries on the
planet to do volunteer work which I knew I would be horrible at. I also thought to myself, that if I
was not going to be doing the work genuinely, then what was the point to it? Eventually after
enough pressure from my peers and family, and my brother convincing me that doing
humanitarian work like this would get me into a better university.I decided to go as a volunteer.

We landed near one of the many thousands of refugee camps that UNICEF had set up in Syria.
We drove from our landing point to the refugee camp. On our way , we encountered a small
town, or what was left of it at least. The town was bombed to shreds. Not a single building was
left standing, all had been reduced to rubble. There were only a few dozen people wandering
the ruins of the town. Some were digging through the rubble to search for what I can only
presume to be their belongings. That sight was disturbing to see,but that was not what shocked
me, what shocked me was the sight of a mother, carrying the corpse of her dead child in her
hands, sitting on the ground and crying. I was convinced at first that this was not earth, I was I
convinced that I was in Hell, however, reality soon set in for me as I heard the tires of our car
coming to a screeching halt, and the caravan of cars behind us, carrying food,clothes and the
UN Peacekeeping forces followed suit. I asked our guide why we had stopped, he responded
that two men were fighting one another and the UN Peacekeeping Forces had to step in to stop
the fight. Apparently one of the men was trying to steal money from the other,which then
evolved into a violent brawl between the two. As my guide put it, this was the cycle of violence
in Syria. Due to the Civil War, the people have nothing and are desperate to provide for
themselves and their families, due to this desperation, certain people fall to thievery,murder and
crime, forcefully taking things from their neighbours, who themselves have barely anything left
to their name. War begets loss, loss begets desperation, and in that desperation, men will do
ANYTHING to survive. We then arrived at the refugee camp. The camp was brimming with
thousands of men,women and children, who, as they heard the cars arrive, rushed out of their
small tents to approach us. As soon as we got out, the volunteers first task was to distribute
food to the children. The children happily ate whatever scraps of food we gave them. They
would not stop thanking us for the food we offered, as every little scrap of food they ate, was like
a blessing from God to them.

Seeing such a sight was both utterly shocking,disturbing and humbling for me. It was disturbing
as when you visit a refugee camp and see the suffering of the people in person, you realize that
the numbers and statistics you see about casualties in the news or on the Internet, are not just a
number, each and every one of those numbers, is a person, with their own dreams,a person
with their own feelings. A person who is suffering. It was humbling to see this as when I gave
the food to the children and saw them smile back at me, I felt happy. It was at that moment that I
realized,I felt happy when I was helping others. I realized just how privileged I was to get three
square meals a day and to have good clothes and a proper education. How privileged I was to
walk safely in my own country and to have a home to return to each day. That privilege, that
realization made me value my own life and the lives of people around me even more.it also
made me realize that I should use my privilege to help others who are not as fortunate as me,
so they. They deserve everything I have much more than I deserve it. They deserve a good
education. They deserve a happy life. They deserve food and water. But due to random
chance,everything was taken from them, and everything they deserve was given to me. So I
thought that the least I could do for these people,these children, was to give them anything I
could to the best of my ability. I happily continued my duty,giving food to these children,teaching
them English and simply talking with them in the free time.

There is one reason why I still continue to do volunteer work to this day, one reason why I give
to charity at every possible turn. That reason is a promise I made to a man, whose name I did
not even know. On the final day of my volunteer work,before going back home, I talked to a boy
my age. He was 18 years old and spoke English very well. Since he was one of the only
refugees at the camp who was the same age as me I found it easy to talk to him.After casually
talking to him for an hour I asked him, seemingly out of nowhere, how he could continue living
through such suffering, how even though he was orphaned at a young age, he kept going. How
could he continue to live if he had lost everything. His response was simple and to the point. He
said that he had made a promise to his elder brother the day before he died. His brother made
him swear that even if he died and was left alone, that HE would keep living in his stead and
find his purpose in life, that he would keep going and never look back, because he deserved a
better chance at life. Before I had to return to my personal quarters for the night, the boy said to
me two lines which affect me to this day. He said “I keep on moving forward, until I’ve fulfilled
that promise to my brother,. I live because I can, and so I will”. Those words struck a cord with
me. I finally understood what made these people continue to live despite their losses. Out of
sheer respect I had for his resolve to continue living, I made him a promise. Although I did not
know his name and I would probably never see him again. I promised him that I would do
everything I can to make the lives of the children of Syria better. I would do everything in my
power to help these children get a chance at a better life. I smiled at the boy one last time and
he returned my gesture in kind. Since that day, I kept moving forward, and never looked back.
Volunteer work can change a person’s life and ideals drastically. Many people may think it to
just be tiring ,and it is. But the satisfaction from the work,knowing that your every minuscule
action is helping other people is worth every bit of stress you go through while doing it. So I
implore everyone to at least try and do some bit of volunteer work in their life. As simply giving
an apple to a starving child, can help change their life and put a smile on their face. I still
continue to do charity work to this day and volunteer to help Syrian children at every opportunity
I’m given. Even when my college entrance exams were only two weeks away, I was given an
opportunity to go to Syria for a few days as a volunteer at the refugee camls