Who Will Hold My Hand? Paper Example

There she was, walking down the market lane under the hot sun. Jemima, a young lady, was looking for a restaurant to cool her body with a cold bottle of soda. She had been walking all day, knocking on one office door after the other, her documents, with her college certificates, firmly clutched in her hands. That had been her routine for several months and was on the verge of giving up. However, she had gone out to attend an interview at a company within her city. Jemima looked troubled and unhappy.

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I followed her into the restaurant and walked towards her table. She did not notice my presence until I was seated right opposite her. Jemima and I were classmates for the entire period of our school years. We were neighbours, and our mothers, at some point, worked in the same hospital facility in a different city. Coupled with that, we also attended the same church. We, however, parted ways after joining the university. While I got admitted to a University within the city, she joined the one her father worked. We had occasionally met when the colleges closed, even going on holiday together. In our final year at the university, we had an internship program in the same company within the city.

"What brings you here, miss wanderer?" I asked, looking straight into her eyes while bending for a hug. I was shocked. Jemima stood still. She was unhappy; her red eyes betrayed her; tears were rolling lazily down her round cheeks. I felt a lump in my throat; I wanted to cry too, only that I didn't know why I should cry. I squeezed her hands tightly and helped her back to her seat. This time I chose to sit beside her. For a moment, we sat staring at each other. "Speak to me friend, what is the matter with you please?" I asked as I poured a cold soda into our glasses.

Jemima finally spoke. She narrated to me how life had not been going well for her in the past year. "After my graduation, I started sending my applications to various entities without success. There have been invitations for interviews, but all these received regrets and the famous, 'we will call you back.' "I have faced enough frustrations. I think I am giving up." I looked at her face, both teary and dull. I felt it too, or so I thought. After my graduation, my parents encouraged me to sign in as a volunteer at a local Community-Based Organisation (CBO) in my County. There were only three volunteer chances, but ten people turned up on the day of the interviews. After what was a rigorous process, I was among the three selected to join the crew.

My job description entailed working with the seniors in the society, taking records of any special care they needed or were receiving at any given moment, the source of the assistance, whether from family, nursing homes, or organizations. We would collect this data and present it to the organization, who then shared it with the government department of social services for any relevant action. I found this job satisfying and appropriate, given my nursing major, and the experience I had acquired working with this population since graduating from high school.

After one year of volunteering, I now felt this should solely be my profession. I had become so attached to the older population. I got treated like a grandchild, I too treated them as my grandparents, and I wished my friend could join me there. I needed company, and that of a close friend like Jemima would serve me very well, I believed. "Let me see what I can do about it, please. I will call to let you know." Her eyes beamed, she offered a wry smile, to assure me that she was positive about my intention. We veered off into other issues, trying to know the whereabouts of our college mates before we finally departed for home.

On my way home, I started thinking of how I could assist my friend. I had been jobless before and experienced the same things she was going through. During the internship program with Jemima, she had displayed excellent workability. She never reported late to work, finished her assignments on time, and always showed respect and integrity with her tasks. His colleagues and the managers also loved her. Upon completion of the program, we both got rewards and positive recommendation letters, given our exemplary performances. I was therefore very positive that any employer would accept her. I started calling friends and acquaintances about the same, but none seemed to be aware of any company that was hiring. In the evening, I broached the subject to my mother, painting the picture of the situation my friend was. "Mum, is there any way you may help her?" I asked.

I didn't have to speak more, as my mother already knew Jemima well-She was like a daughter to her. She knew how disciplined she was and how she was amiable and disciplined. She recalled how she was instrumental in church, being the youth leader. "I will call around to find out if any entity around has any opening. Thank you for the concern you have shown towards your friend, plus, she is a very virtuous lady." I felt so excited about this. My mother was among the senior employees at her workplace, and securing at least a chance for an internship program for Jemima would not be a problem to her, I thought.

One evening, my mum came home from work. It had been almost three weeks since the last time we talked about Jemima's issue. She had also called to ask about the progress, but each time I would answer in the negative. My mum walked into the house and straight to the couch where I was, wearing a delighted face. "What is it mum, have you been promoted?" I asked teasingly. "No," she replied. Your friend has secured a chance for a two-year internship program at my workplace, which will come with a stipend. There may also be a chance for hiring upon successful completion of the same. I presented her papers to my manager, who almost asked why I had not sent the documents much earlier. She is supposed to report next week.

I made a quick call to inform Jemima about the good news. She could not believe it. "How fast, oh my," She responded. "I am so delighted. I will be on my way to your house right away. Thank you." As we sat in my house with my friend and mum, I kept thinking about what could have been Jemima's fate, had she not exhibited the qualities that made both my mother and the manager consider her for the position. Such attributes as virtuousness, discipline, excellent workability, punctuality, hard work, respect, and integrity, all conspired to secure Jemima the opportunity. No one had to hold her hand after all. She did it all by herself.