HAPPY

When asked what you want to be when you grow up, your answers probably varied from astronaut to mailman to doctor, as most do. But I didn’t know what to say the first time I was asked. The question felt daunting and too big to mould into an answer that would make the teacher say, “That’s good. You’ll do great at that!”

Whatever I said felt binding. I had to decide now and never veer off to a different path later. There was no wandering allowed. Life felt like a blueprint with clear instructions on every step I was supposed to take, with no wiggle room for uncertainty. But what I longed for was more like a road map with many different routes all to the same destination, with stops along the way to make friends.

My end destinations never crossed my mind as an issue. I didn’t care if heaven existed and I went there or if nothing in the afterlife was waiting for me. The peace and quiet of nothing sounded like a nice break from my busy household.

I am the youngest of five children and would often get forgotten. My brothers were all adults when I was a child, and the rules were lax. So, there were no curfews or where-a-bout check-ins I needed to worry about. I would roam the neighbourhood on my bike until I was hungry for food. Then, I would wander into the house for nourishment and rest for my next big adventure waiting for me.

My favourite place to go after school was the empty field behind our house. There, I would park my bike, find a nice patch of dirt to sit on, watch as the sun slowly set over the hill and play with the shadows as they cast behind me. This was my favourite thinking spot, and I had a lot of thinking to do.

What did I have to offer the world? Did it matter if the difference I left was a mouse-sized footprint or a crater the size of the Grand Canyon, where my absence would be felt for centuries afterward? If I influenced one person’s life by a small act of kindness, would that ripple into a chain of positivity I started? Would that be enough to satisfy me?

Any time I got into trouble, my mother would tell me, “What you put into the world will come back to you threefold. Do you want this to be your legacy?”

What would my legacy be if it stopped tomorrow?

The next day was a career day for our second-grade class, and we had to present our choice to the class. My turn came up, and the teacher once again asked, “What do you want to be when you grow up?”

And I simply responded, “I want to be happy.”