my purpose

I found my purpose in life a long time ago. I think I knew when I was 9 and buried a bird in a shoebox with leaves and dirt. Or maybe it was when I found myself unwillingly understanding people. Or maybe it was when my chest would burn a little when I saw old people with no one to walk down the street with. I saw poverty everywhere, I still do. People in need of help, where a smile is seen as a miracle, a sign from God, an angel sent from heaven. I found myself painting angels on fogged up windows, flying down to save people in need. In a way, we’re all in need. But I have more than enough, I think realizing that is when I realized my purpose. I don’t need saving, I’m the one that needs to do the saving.