What drives me to help? I carefully read the question several times, each time asking myself if there are factors that actually drive me to help someone. I grew up in a Christian home where love and charity were preached, especially by my grandma, who would deliberately cook extra portions in case an unexpected visitor came. I believe she had experienced hardship in life and she believed everyone was going through the same, so she never hesitated in helping anyone. No one had to force it on us or allow us to develop a certain drive; we watched it being done by people who were older and gradually learned it.
We saw what our grandma did as the right thing to do and something of virtue to emulate. Her nature was a better teacher of what she wanted us to do, and that's one of the attributes we learned with no need to be cajoled. Just like my grandma, I believe everyone needs help, and when I'm in a position to help, I lend a helping hand and sometimes I go the extra mile. I don't see helping people as a duty that requires a drive; I see it as a duty that everyone should do when they're capable of doing it.
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The lesson didn't just end with Grandma. While in Sunday school, we were taught about giving. Stories like that of the Good Samaritan were among them. We were taught about the blessings of helping and how it's a good thing to do. For me, I grew up with these teachings and I practiced them while growing up. I don't need to see a crying widow to help, and I don't have to wait until someone is dying to lend a helping hand. There's no specific drive when it comes to helping someone who's broken; the fact that it's right makes it worth doing.
I know these days are evil and one needs to be careful while helping others. Not everyone is out there sincerely looking for help; some disguise themselves to cause harm, and that's where caution comes in. Even though helping people is good, our instincts also play a vital role. We can't help everyone, or we'll be drowning while trying to lift others. Sometimes I refrain from lending a helping hand if my conscience doesn't find peace in it. I see the troubling as a sign that I'm about to do something wrong, and I stop immediately. So while my childhood upbringing and the Sunday lessons play a vital role in my drive, I also allow my instincts to dictate when to help and when not to.
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