When I suggested making colorful pouches to beautify the mastectomy drainage bags for local breast cancer patients, my mother was not surprised. We had recently made mastectomy bags for my aunt during her cancer treatment. The look on her face and the change in her mood inspired me to make more. I’ve always loved helping others and this project has become one of many. After months passed and needles broke, we donated almost 100 bags, bright with expressive fabric, to the hospital in hopes of bringing joy to others. Growing up, I imagined becoming like my grandmother, Joy, as family members shared stories about her caring nature. I’d sit in awe as they told me how she sent barrels with school supplies to underprivileged children back home in Jamaica, even as she was fighting stage four ovarian cancer. Although she passed before I was born, I see my mother continuing her legacy. While I dreaded it as a child, I remember constantly being dragged across the city to care for our elderly relatives and do charity work. From cooking curry goat and roti to cheer me up, and making my dads medicinal, Chinese fever grass soup when someone was feeling ill, seeing my mother go out of her way to help people made me want to do the same. Now that I am older, my favorite attribute about myself is the joy I get from helping others. This is no surprise considering I inherited “Joy” as my middle name. My friends have even designated me as the “mom” in our group. I channel my mother’s boldness to care when speaking up for my shy friend to tell the waiter about her serious nut allergy. I recall my mother’s preparedness when I stocked my backpack with a variety of feminine products for whenever there was a girl in need. I remember the comfort of crying with my mother on my grandmother’s birthday, as I hugged my friend who immigrated last year from Germany as she shared the struggles of a new environment while we strategized how to find her a homecoming date. Even though my friends say it's a bit embarrassing, I make sure I compliment at least one person as we walk through the school halls, especially if I don’t know them. Whether it is a simple compliment or finding myself signing petitions for 20 minutes, I need to care for others. As a historian of Metamorphosis, a school club to supports the growth of women, I had the opportunity to share my passion through the project of making mastectomy bags. Although I loved this special activity between myself and my mother, I want to make my impact greater by getting more people involved. I have put together a presentation for school administration and recruited club members to personalize and donate more bags to the oncology department at a nearby hospital. Not only are we doing this to help those who are fighting the deadly disease, but we are also honoring my grandmother and her passion for helping others. Although huge gestures are important, for me the smaller things are just as impactful. People often say that the most rewarding things are money or acknowledgment, but for me, it's the smile on somebody's face. When I'm able to make even the slightest difference in someone's life I feel so accomplished. My love for aiding others in any way possible carried on the family legacy, and I hope that one day I will have a daughter to continue the cycle.