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New Orleans, but guilt tugged at me constantly. I sent money away, as much as I could, to the Red Cross. I helped organize a fund-raising campaign at work for the survivors that corporate management eventually begrudgingly matched, dollar for dollar. I got phone calls from people whose homes had been destroyed who were turned away by the insurance company on the claim that the damage fell under the umbrella of the Federal Flood program, and then were turned away by the Flood program on the claim that the destruction was due to wind and hence the insurance company should pay. Back and forth they went, getting nothing and nowhere.

By that time, I began to care very little about what my corporate talking points were, and decided to just be as much of a human being as I could. Maybe I couldn't personally slay any dragons, but at least I could refuse to be a robot at the end of an eight-tiered phone menu. to my surprise, this single shift in attitude helped alleviate my own distress more than any other action I had tried. The callers clearly appreciated it greatly, and though I won no awards, I got in no special trouble either, even though I constantly said the obvious and broke the rules and laughed and cried and prayed when callers needed it.

I began to write. I'd been a writer in my younger years, but hard times of my own had worn me out and worn me down. It seemed that once I found my voice on the phone, I rediscovered my voice on paper too. My nagging guilt turned into a churning anger that was relieved whenever I wrote or spoke out. I have always felt that anger, far from being a vice, is a more of a call to action when properly channeled, a gathering of energy for a necessary change. For the first time in a long time, that nagging, faceless guilt, that question, was not so persistent or painful. Still present, it was more of a directional tool than a torment, and that is how it continues to be today.

We live in a world in which we are told constantly to be happy, be positive, comfort ourselves, and avoid guilt. Yet even babies do not live in constant comfort, and sometimes guilt has a purpose and should be heeded. If some small thing is tugging at the heart, or the head, and it will not go away, sometimes the best thing to do is stop, listen, and respond. Not all of us have to be Mother Theresa, but all of us are her for a reason, a purpose no one else can fulfill, however small or seemingly fleeting.

What value are your adding to humanity today?

Learn more about this author, Pamela Grundy.
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