More than 175 fifth-grade essayists and artists from 16 Denver public schools submitted work reflecting on the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr.’s quote, “The time is always right to do what is right,” for the annual YMCA Kids MLK celebration. Three essays and pieces of artwork were selected for top honors. Their creators were acknowledged at a special ceremony on Friday, but their work surely resonates beyond the contest. Here are the winning essays.
One Time I Did the Right Thing and It Made Me Feel…
By Hannah Walker, Roberts Elementary
Being a homeless child on Colfax Street isn’t easy. When it snows you get snowed on. When it rains you get rained on. When you’re hungry, well, you’re hungry. Homelessness is a problem! A major dilemma, so this is about how I helped a homeless mother and her two, twin babies, and how it made me feel.
The time I am going to describe takes place on Dec., 15, 2004, my 8th birthday. It was an exceedingly cold and frosty day, and my family and I were heading home from my aunt’s house.
In my hand I clutched a 20 dollar bill, my birthday money. I couldn’t wait to get home and combine this money with the rest of my change. It was my ambition to buy a fairy/princess/safari Barbie doll at Target.
I was talking in full flow about my plans for my next birthday, my stomach was full, and I had that special feeling you get when you feel as light and smooth as a mouth full of whipped cream and berries. I felt as if I was the most beautiful, magnificent person in the entire world. Then I saw the woman.
The woman; she had long, mousey brown hair that tangled down her back. She was shivering uncontrollably and her skinny arms were clasped tightly around her frail body. At her feet lay two teeny baby girls. The babies were wrapped in an assortment of socks and T-shirts. Both were crying in pitiful little sobs.
I found myself aching with sorrow. My heart felt weighed down. I wanted to do something to help so badly, but what? I was thinking so fast and hard I almost didn’t notice the woman hold up her sign. But as it happens I glanced up and saw through my window the words: “Homeless, kids, need some money.” The last word popped out at me like a jack-in-the-box. Money, the woman needed money, and what was I holding? Twenty dollars, otherwise known as money.
Without even thinking, I made a spontaneous decision, rolled down my window, and handed the $20 to the woman.
It was as if her gratitude was written across her face with a magic marker. When she took the money our hands touched, her hands were icy cold, and had a pink tinge. I shivered involuntarily and she jerked her hand back. Then she said “thank you,” and I knew that she really meant it. “You’re welcome,” I whispered. And in that instant I felt like my heart was expanding. I felt like a bird, gliding high and free. I felt like I was one of the sun’s radiant beams, shining down on planet Earth.
So, yes I helped a homeless woman. But sometimes I think, “Did I really help her? Did she go buy food and clothing for herself and kids? Or did she buy a couple of bottles of beer and a pack of cigarettes?”
I don’t know, and I guess I never will. But I do know that I can’t worry about it forever, I can only hope that she used the money in a way that was beneficial to both her and her children.
I Know I Shouldn’t Have and I’m Glad I Didn’t
By Maria Leon, Holm Elementary
Mom was taking a nap and I was alone in the living room watching TV. It was summer and I was boiling; when suddenly I hear a sound. It was a bell and I recognized it right away. It was the ice cream man and boy did I want a Popsicle to cool me down.
I went to my room and checked my piggy bank. I only had 25 cents and the Popsicles were $1.25 I needed $1 to be able to buy a Popsicle. I looked out the window one more time and spotted a couple of dollars on the table. I wanted to grab one of those dollars so bad. “Mom would never notice that $1 was missing right?” I thought to myself.
I thought about it for another minute or so and then thought about the consequences. It was hard but I decided not to take the money; maybe there was something other than a Popsicle to cool me down. I looked out the window one more time and went back to the couch.
I was sad and proud in a weird way. I was sad because I really wanted a Popsicle. I was proud because I had been able to resist the urge to steal my mom’s money. At that moment I knew I had done the right thing.
About five minutes later, after the ice cream man was gone, my mom woke up and she checked the money on the table and said, “We have enough money to buy one Popsicle for each of us.”
I smiled and I felt even prouder of myself.
My conclusion is that just like Martin Luther King, Jr., said: “The time is always right to do what is right.”
That is exactly what I did. I figured that if I resist the temptation when I really want something, then I might get it somehow.
The Time is Always Right to do What is Right
By Mark Nilov, Cory Elementary
Doing the right thing is hard, but I did it when I stood up for someone that nobody liked. I know I did the right thing at the end because everyone was happy, including the kid.
This happened last year on the playground when nobody wanted to play with one of the kids in my class. It started out as a normal day. Some other kids and I were playing wall-ball when another boy wanted to join us. Wall-ball is a game where you throw a ball to the side of the school and try to get people out.
No one liked him, so they said mean things to him, and tried to keep him from playing. But since they were playing with my ball, I was the one who could make the choice about whether he would play or not.
After I made the decision to let him play, the other kids still didn’t want him around. At this point, they tried to make him not want to play. They ganged up and threw the ball to try to get him and nobody else out. They were doing their best to make him feel excluded. Because of this, I made a rule that people could not do “suicides” which is when one kid becomes the only target.
So now that there was this new rule, people couldn’t figure out how to get him out. Next, they just started keeping the ball to themselves and started to push him around. I had had enough; I quit the game and played with him. I decided I could play wall-ball another day.
Since they had pushed him around, he was sad and did not want to play at first. Finally, after I asked him again if he wanted to play, he agreed. We had fun until the bell rang. I know I did the right thing. The rest of the kids could do whatever they wanted. The boy who had been excluded had someone to play with, and I was happy because I felt good about myself.
