June 17th 2014. The day that I learned the about the power of the human heart. It was a summer day like any other. Warm and sunny and playful and serene and free and calm and abloom and active and carefree. You could have used thousands of adjectives to describe the atmosphere of that day but for the events that corresponded only one could have been used. Phenomenal. I woke up and absorbed the sunlight that came streaming through my windows and onto my face. It was seven in the morning. I knew this because the night prior I had set an alarm for seven in the morning and my phone had begun to play “Strange and Beautiful”, the peaceful tune that I had woken up to for the past year of my fifteen year long reality. I sat there for a few extensive seconds and then I swung my legs over the edge of my bed, stood up, bent over to grab my phone to turn off the alarm, and then walked over to grab my bathrobe and green towel. As my face was being bombarded with thousands of tiny water droplets, I began to think, as I always do - but this time not about my goal time for the mile race that I would run that day, not about which period I would do my history homework at but on the positive influence that I would impart on the world that day. After about ten minutes of thinking I realized that I was not doing a very good job of preventing the California drought from worsening. My hand was reaching for the shower handle when I heard my brother yell.
“Thomas, we are leaving at eight ten and if you are not ready you are not coming”. After I had heard the last shuffles of his steps I finally turned the valve and stepped out of the shower. Five minutes later I was rushing through my bowl of cheerios so that I could focus on the matter at hand. A couple moments later I jumped out of my seat and headed towards the white cabinets that were situated at the corner of the kitchen. My hand reached for the garbage bag that I had stuffed the day before. I heard it once more.
“Thomas, you have five more minutes to get ready, If you are not in the car in five minutes you are not coming”. Five minutes later I was waiting for my brother in our marshmallow colored Toyota. The door to the left of me swung open and my brother stepped in.
“Are you really still bringing those stupid cards to school Thomas?”. I said nothing and turned to look out of the window. My eyes viewed white flowered trees and two story homes pass by rapidly, my mind, however, was elsewhere. I was aware of a feeling. A powerful feeling that was brewing inside of me. I wouldn’t call it  inspiration or hope or happiness or even compassion. Honestly I couldn’t even begin to explain this feeling. All that I know is that this emotion has motivated me to make a difference. A couple of minutes later we were at the school. I stepped out of the car, swung the garbage bag over my shoulder and headed straight to the office to begin my deliveries.

“This is for you”, I said as I placed a bright blue card on top of the reception desk and then moved on. In the library I walked up to the front desk and handed the librarian a green card, and then turned around and moved on. In our freshman building I slipped several yellow colored cards through people’s lockers. People whispered and stared as I smiled and walked. The next stop was my sophomore building.

“Hey man, you deserve this”. I uttered this phrase to all of my friends and acquaintances. Each time I would present a card they would stare, first at the card, then at me, confused. I would then smile and walk away promptly hearing the tear of the envelope. I made my way over to the classroom of my favorite teacher, and then to the classroom of my least favorite. I gave an envelope to my various coaches, former and present. Good or awful. After that it was time for the hardest delivery of the day. I began the not so familiar walk to the house of my former father.

I anticipated the reaction of everybody prior, but I was uncertain about this response. A couple miles, a couple thoughts, and several doubts later I was walking up the steps of the house. I stopped for just a second, to take it in. The wood around the front porch was damaged and covered with mole. The door was battered and one of the windows broken. I stepped up to confront the door. And then rang the doorbell. And immediately I felt fear and regret. And wondered if this was all a giant mistake. I had almost ran across the third step in front of his house when I heard the door creak open slightly. And then silence. As I turned the silence ceased. And was replaced by a booming voice that echoed through my skull.
“Who is it!”. I turned around fully. And spoke the first words that I had said to my dad in four years.  “It’s Thomas, I just want to give you something”. “Well, drop it on the floor and leave then”. I placed the black envelope carefully on the floor and then left. I began to walk back to the school. I couldn’t say that I was not surprised. I mean the guy hated me. And I ha-, well, I should have hated him, but today I loved everybody. And throughout the day this had provoked me to smile. But right now, at this moment it was very difficult to do anything but glower. As I had begun to accept defeat I heard a sound of hope. I heard the sound of big heavy military boots land hard on the ground. I turned and first saw his mouth which was open and gasping for air, and then his eyes which were filled with tears. He hugged me immediately. My head was deep in thought and in t-shirt fabric when I heard it. A car parking besides us.

“Thomas”. I brought my head out and looked up to see my principal. And soon after I looked also at two more cars that rolled up to the curb. Out of these cars came the librarian and my teachers and coaches.
“Thomas, if you come back to school with us I’d love to have a talk and find out how this all happened”. I nodded my head.
I was sitting in the brown chair at the back of the principal’s office staring at my hands, which were resting on my lap. The principal had been looking at her computer for about five minutes. Every once in awhile she would turn to look at me, and then back at her computer. Finally she took a deep breath and turned towards me. I looked up anxiously. She opened her mouth to speak.
“We just wanted to tell you that what you did today was beautiful”.
My pupils began to feel damp.
“I have never seen a student with so much compassion.” I muttered a thank you.
“Although I would like to ask, why did you do this”. This was the question that I had been dreading for the past seventy two hours. I just didn’t know how to answer it. Deep down inside I knew why, but it would be impossible for me to formulate the “why” into any combination of words.
“I’m not sure”, I told her.
“Hmm, well regardless of the reason we are truly happy for you and I would like to create a school event replicating what you did today. You gave thanks to everyone you knew, whether they deserved it or not. You gave back to people, and that, I think, should be practiced everyday and celebrated once a year.” My eyes were now much more than damp.
     “Thank you Thomas”. After a brief handshake and awkward hug I walked out of the door. I heard the cheering before anything. It seemed like the entire school was standing in the hallway. I saw my coaches and librarians and all of my friends, the freshmen, the seniors and people that I didn’t even recognize. I couldn’t move. Happiness had overpowered me and took control of my body. At this very moment I understood the power of thanks, I understood the power of the human heart.