She stood behind the table, ladling soup into the passing bowls. She didn’t want to be here helping earlier in the day; but now that she was here, it was a good thing. It made her forget what she didn’t have. It made her thankful for what she did have.
helping. help me get out of this world. help me be happy. help me live a full life. help me want to live. help me find the bright side of things. help me find the side where the grass is really greener. help me love.
Helping is what I did from 1pm-5pm today. I just started working as a cashier at Best Buy and today was my second day. I’m not exactly a “people person”, yet I surprised myself with how well I am able to interact with customers and strike up a conversation. This job will definitely be good for me and I am highly enjoying it.
I help my grandfather with the groceries today. It was a peaceful space to chat with my dear old grandpapa about my adventures in school and talk about my future together.
november tenth. Say it, november tenth. It tastes so beautiful in my mouth, on my tongue. I love a day, I love words. how can that be? How can a word bring happiness? For isn’t that what love is, bringing happiness, helping us get through the day. Helping us carry on, the things that make us happy, the things that make us smile. Like the pretty name of a day. The pretty name of the day that helps us remember how pretty the day can be. That’s what love is, helping.
Helping is something that tends to come naturally to us. We help people when we see that they need it. Even without rules of etiquette and the like, humans tend to help each other. The tendency to help is innate and is particularly strong when the object of this desire is a family member (anyone we happen to share genes with). The more genes we share with an individual, the more likely we are to help them and the more effort we are likely to put into the act of helping. Helping is good.
helping- what to write about? helping others, helping one another. it makes me think of teachers and little kids in africa that don’t have much help. oh crap time’s running out. im not ahelpful person, sometimes i am but not for the most part.
helping is what people need everyday. people help each other and get help from each other. thus, helping people would help you to get help from the others.
I watched as she raced to the little potted plants and began picking them up. “No,” I started to call out when an older woman stopped me.
“Oh, she’s so sweet. Quite the little helper.” She smiled, waiting for a response to the compliment.
Glancing back to my daughter, I watched as two of the plants toppled over, dirt covering the concrete and broken leaves dangling from the slender stems. “Helping or hindering, who’s to say?” I finally replied.
(Okay, so this was just over a minute. I wanted to express my idea though!)
I am helping Alicia with her english paper currently. It is really awesome, and I know she is going to help me when I have to finish mine because she is nice like that. Plus I provided pretzel m&m’s so she owes me. It is a fun time. Be jealous of us. Also, it is almost Friday and I am running out of things to write. This is a long minute today……SHANA IS HERE TOO!!!!!!!!!!
Spencer walked along the river bank toward dusk, and the noises alerted him. Moving toward the sounds, he got close enough to focus on the movement in the water, the three kittens clutching a log, mewling pitifully. They were drifting away from the bank and downstream. Acting quickly, Spencer looked left and he looked right for a tool, a rope, or something. In the bushes, amid the rubble, he found a discarded Playboy magazine. So much for helping the kittens.
I knew i should have been doing something, something that would just keep things moving along. all of those people, they were desperate, but i just ignored them and refused to lend any aid. why did i do this? because i wanted to watch TV
helping. such a simple word, and yet, it can do so much. there’s helping a neighbor and helping a fugitive, helping a plant to grow and helping a baby to mature. There are so many ways to use ‘helping’, which way will you use it?
“how could i tell mom? always helping, never complaining, arms always wide open…. how could i tell her? i cant, you do not know my mother…. i could never tell her.”
A helping hand is a generous hand. Would you want to be a helping hand and would you be happy? I would be happy, if I wanted to be happy. This reminds me of a song I’m listening to, Angel by Blue October. It has nothing to do with helping… Unless sentimentally its helping me. The song is helping me to dream.
He needed a helping hand. But I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to offer it. I mean, should I really be involving myself into this kind of stuff? A huge wave of doubt overwhelmed me.
“Come on man, just do it,” he insisted. He shoved the bottle into my hand.
I didn’t exactly want to have the burden of carrying alcohol, though…
I don’t know why I don’t like people helping me. It’s like I can’t even let them because I want to be the helper, not the helped. It’s strange to me how closed off I am from everyone. Writing sometimes does the trick, but most of the time words just fall through my skin like everything else people say.
“My fault? MY FAULT?! Oh, okay. So, you’re saying that it’s MY fault that you can’t remember anything or study for a test efficiently or do anything right. Okay. Sure. I’ll take that blame on my gargantuan shoulders.”
Sometimes I love it so much because I make so many authentic friendships. Other times I feel I have manipulated the person by making them feel like I’m interested in them. Morally, this doesn’t feel okay with me.
The teacher courageously helped the students with their math homework, even though it was pretty much hopeless because the were not the brightest students.
She took my hand and pulled, heaving me onto my feet. I brushed the dry leaves off of my butt and thanked her.
“why would she talk to me like that?” I asked, wiping a hand across my face.
I hit my head on the bedpost – twice. He kissed the spot and held me and did the WFR routine. Does it hurt here? Does it hurt here? Here? …Here? I miss
i don’t enjoy helping people anymore. i’ve always been a helper, it’s in my nature to be encouraging and nurturing. but i simply hate it. mostly because when i’m in a rut, i have no one to rely on to help me. but maybe that is a virtue, perhaps i’m being prepared for something more? who knows. i just hate helping.
“If a helping hand is what you need, then go look for it somwhere else,” Annabelle arrogantly advised Jeremy. She was dressed in extravangant, fur-trimmed clothing with glimmering diamonds dangling from her ears and hanging around her neck. All her fancy accesories and wardrobe indicated her affluence; her narcissism was as abundant as the money that was safely tucked away in her louis vuitton wallet. However, regardless of the contrast in their lifestyle, Jeremy looked upon her with a compelling longing.
the acknowledgement of another person and then so much more, but lest we take this first step for granted, we are devaluing the greatness of the act of helping. Always with the hands though,
I thought I was helping. Honestly. I didn’t want to do anything but make him simile, make him happy. I love that man, and I just wanted to help him out, fix a small mistake. Instead, because of my foolhardiness, I was stupid and naive. I really do deserve title of Novice, don’t I?
You’re not helping. Everything you have said or done thus far has done absolutely nothing to advance the swift correction of this situation. You keep letting your feelings get in the way and when your feelings get in the way things get screwed up. Okay? So just mask your emotions and bear it, because nothing you are doing is helping you get anywhere you want to go.
It’s not helping. The drugs, the friends, the alcohol, the town, these fucking people. It’s not helping. I blame these things so I don’t have to think its me. I don’t want to change to fit in. But that, too, is not helping.
I was helping you out all along, but you took offense to my sense of charity and decided to feel that you where being diminished and put down. All I wanted to do was help you. Instead you looked at my honest attempt to help you as not a helping hand but a way of rubbing in your defects and insecurities.
I wanted to give you a helping hand. Instead you slapped it and pushed me back where I now stand.
I’m only trying to help, but it seems like ever word that I can strangle out of myself that isn’t a plain snap at her goes ignored.
Some people with multiple problems may be surprised to find that all their issues boil down to the fact that they don’t listen!
I don’t need your fucking help, I want you to cut your hands off and give them to me. I need my dinner sometime.
November 11th, 2010. 1:57am.
She stood behind the table, ladling soup into the passing bowls. She didn’t want to be here helping earlier in the day; but now that she was here, it was a good thing. It made her forget what she didn’t have. It made her thankful for what she did have.
How can he expect help?
When he tries to earn it with a scowl?
I helped him. He released a smile… and learned, the art of helping.
helping. help me get out of this world. help me be happy. help me live a full life. help me want to live. help me find the bright side of things. help me find the side where the grass is really greener. help me love.
Helping is what I did from 1pm-5pm today. I just started working as a cashier at Best Buy and today was my second day. I’m not exactly a “people person”, yet I surprised myself with how well I am able to interact with customers and strike up a conversation. This job will definitely be good for me and I am highly enjoying it.
I help my grandfather with the groceries today. It was a peaceful space to chat with my dear old grandpapa about my adventures in school and talk about my future together.
november tenth. Say it, november tenth. It tastes so beautiful in my mouth, on my tongue. I love a day, I love words. how can that be? How can a word bring happiness? For isn’t that what love is, bringing happiness, helping us get through the day. Helping us carry on, the things that make us happy, the things that make us smile. Like the pretty name of a day. The pretty name of the day that helps us remember how pretty the day can be. That’s what love is, helping.
Helping is something that tends to come naturally to us. We help people when we see that they need it. Even without rules of etiquette and the like, humans tend to help each other. The tendency to help is innate and is particularly strong when the object of this desire is a family member (anyone we happen to share genes with). The more genes we share with an individual, the more likely we are to help them and the more effort we are likely to put into the act of helping. Helping is good.
I walked. I ran. I breathed. I stopped breathing. I jumped. I flew. I exploded. It’s helping. I just don’t know which was helping.
helping- what to write about? helping others, helping one another. it makes me think of teachers and little kids in africa that don’t have much help. oh crap time’s running out. im not ahelpful person, sometimes i am but not for the most part.
helping is what people need everyday. people help each other and get help from each other. thus, helping people would help you to get help from the others.
I watched as she raced to the little potted plants and began picking them up. “No,” I started to call out when an older woman stopped me.
“Oh, she’s so sweet. Quite the little helper.” She smiled, waiting for a response to the compliment.
Glancing back to my daughter, I watched as two of the plants toppled over, dirt covering the concrete and broken leaves dangling from the slender stems. “Helping or hindering, who’s to say?” I finally replied.
(Okay, so this was just over a minute. I wanted to express my idea though!)
I am helping Alicia with her english paper currently. It is really awesome, and I know she is going to help me when I have to finish mine because she is nice like that. Plus I provided pretzel m&m’s so she owes me. It is a fun time. Be jealous of us. Also, it is almost Friday and I am running out of things to write. This is a long minute today……SHANA IS HERE TOO!!!!!!!!!!
Spencer walked along the river bank toward dusk, and the noises alerted him. Moving toward the sounds, he got close enough to focus on the movement in the water, the three kittens clutching a log, mewling pitifully. They were drifting away from the bank and downstream. Acting quickly, Spencer looked left and he looked right for a tool, a rope, or something. In the bushes, amid the rubble, he found a discarded Playboy magazine. So much for helping the kittens.
I knew i should have been doing something, something that would just keep things moving along. all of those people, they were desperate, but i just ignored them and refused to lend any aid. why did i do this? because i wanted to watch TV
helping. such a simple word, and yet, it can do so much. there’s helping a neighbor and helping a fugitive, helping a plant to grow and helping a baby to mature. There are so many ways to use ‘helping’, which way will you use it?
“how could i tell mom? always helping, never complaining, arms always wide open…. how could i tell her? i cant, you do not know my mother…. i could never tell her.”
A helping hand is a generous hand. Would you want to be a helping hand and would you be happy? I would be happy, if I wanted to be happy. This reminds me of a song I’m listening to, Angel by Blue October. It has nothing to do with helping… Unless sentimentally its helping me. The song is helping me to dream.
He needed a helping hand. But I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to offer it. I mean, should I really be involving myself into this kind of stuff? A huge wave of doubt overwhelmed me.
“Come on man, just do it,” he insisted. He shoved the bottle into my hand.
I didn’t exactly want to have the burden of carrying alcohol, though…
Some days when I am feeling rough and bad for myself, the best option is helping someone else.
Helping another person find positive thoughts and positive emotions is the best type of therapy.
I don’t know why I don’t like people helping me. It’s like I can’t even let them because I want to be the helper, not the helped. It’s strange to me how closed off I am from everyone. Writing sometimes does the trick, but most of the time words just fall through my skin like everything else people say.
I need your help
everyday
I need your help
all the time
I need your help
I need you
I need you God.
Helping me climb the mountains
Helping me face my fears
Helping me live each day
Helping me to fall with ease
Helping me to love those who love me
“My fault? MY FAULT?! Oh, okay. So, you’re saying that it’s MY fault that you can’t remember anything or study for a test efficiently or do anything right. Okay. Sure. I’ll take that blame on my gargantuan shoulders.”
customer service at a small coffee shop.
Sometimes I love it so much because I make so many authentic friendships. Other times I feel I have manipulated the person by making them feel like I’m interested in them. Morally, this doesn’t feel okay with me.
The teacher courageously helped the students with their math homework, even though it was pretty much hopeless because the were not the brightest students.
She took my hand and pulled, heaving me onto my feet. I brushed the dry leaves off of my butt and thanked her.
“why would she talk to me like that?” I asked, wiping a hand across my face.
we could all use a little help every now and then
I’m helping the nightmare along. Forcing the turmoil to boil over so that I may feed on my own despair. Save me from my venomous ways!
I hit my head on the bedpost – twice. He kissed the spot and held me and did the WFR routine. Does it hurt here? Does it hurt here? Here? …Here? I miss
i don’t enjoy helping people anymore. i’ve always been a helper, it’s in my nature to be encouraging and nurturing. but i simply hate it. mostly because when i’m in a rut, i have no one to rely on to help me. but maybe that is a virtue, perhaps i’m being prepared for something more? who knows. i just hate helping.
“If a helping hand is what you need, then go look for it somwhere else,” Annabelle arrogantly advised Jeremy. She was dressed in extravangant, fur-trimmed clothing with glimmering diamonds dangling from her ears and hanging around her neck. All her fancy accesories and wardrobe indicated her affluence; her narcissism was as abundant as the money that was safely tucked away in her louis vuitton wallet. However, regardless of the contrast in their lifestyle, Jeremy looked upon her with a compelling longing.
I hate it…sort of. It just doesn’t really interest me as much as I would prefer.
the acknowledgement of another person and then so much more, but lest we take this first step for granted, we are devaluing the greatness of the act of helping. Always with the hands though,
I thought I was helping. Honestly. I didn’t want to do anything but make him simile, make him happy. I love that man, and I just wanted to help him out, fix a small mistake. Instead, because of my foolhardiness, I was stupid and naive. I really do deserve title of Novice, don’t I?
You’re not helping. Everything you have said or done thus far has done absolutely nothing to advance the swift correction of this situation. You keep letting your feelings get in the way and when your feelings get in the way things get screwed up. Okay? So just mask your emotions and bear it, because nothing you are doing is helping you get anywhere you want to go.
It’s not helping. The drugs, the friends, the alcohol, the town, these fucking people. It’s not helping. I blame these things so I don’t have to think its me. I don’t want to change to fit in. But that, too, is not helping.
Helping out is tiring, but in the end, the effort always pay off. Helping others is the way to go.
I was helping you out all along, but you took offense to my sense of charity and decided to feel that you where being diminished and put down. All I wanted to do was help you. Instead you looked at my honest attempt to help you as not a helping hand but a way of rubbing in your defects and insecurities.
I wanted to give you a helping hand. Instead you slapped it and pushed me back where I now stand.