Quilts

Cynthia

From a young age, I always wanted to help people. When I was still in kindergarten, I insisted on helping other people cross the street. I would grab strangers' hands and assure them that they would be safe as long as they crossed the street with me. I gave many children bandaids and hugs after they would scratch their knees on the playground. I even had my mom sign me up for martial arts when I was three, telling her that I needed to be able to fight off bad guys to save my friends.

One day, a police officer came to my third grade class and talk about what she did. She told us about stopping bad guys and saving the nice people from getting hurt. That was when I knew that was what I wanted to do.

Every weekend, I would visit my local police department. I brought them cookies and would offer to help them with whatever they needed. They introduced me to a few of the dogs and had me help clean things.

It was a dream come true.

I kept getting older and older, and my parents kept telling me that maybe the police force wasn't right for me. They asked if I wanted to be a doctor of sorts. After all, they reasoned, doctors helped people too.

Once I graduated, I went to the military. I needed to be away from my parents, but I also still wanted to help people. I went to war and saw the evils of it, but I also saw the good. I saved plenty of lives, but I also took many.

I finished my time in the military, and returned to my home town. I was welcomed with open arms and finally joined the police force.

I could finally do what I always wanted to do.