Showing posts with label hypothetically speaking. Show all posts
Showing posts with label hypothetically speaking. Show all posts

Friday, July 11, 2008

Hypothetically Speaking


your best friend michelle has extended you an invitation to participate in a fundraiser for a very worthy cause. she, along with members of her proud sorority, have organized the week-long event in an effort to raise money to help transform an old, abandoned neighborhood building into an afterschool community center. The program's mission will be to provide hot meals, tutoring, and shelter for needy children.

since the neighborhood is filled with underprivileged children of parents and guardians who work evening shifts and who, unfortunately, are unable to provide the same for their children, everyone is more than excited.

you jump at the opportunity to contribute your time and effort. mainly because you remember yourself how so many of your elementary and middle school classmates ended up getting sidetracked around that age. since you are a responsible adult now, you understand the need to give back and instill a much-needed sense of love and honor into the innocent and easily-influenced minds of children.

you are proud of your friend michelle and are honored that she asked you to participate. as finance manager, your job will be to seek donations and keep count of all monies received.

for the next seven days, all parties involved -- kids, parents, members of the neighborhood, sponsors, local leaders, and volunteers unite to make this one highly successful event. the children buzz with excitement. it was hard work, but it paid off. from all accounts they earned the $30,000 needed, and are expected to have the desperately needed after-school center.

a local news station captures the celebratory moment. a few children are interviewed. unable to withhold their joy, they squeal in delight, a chorus of thank-yous filling the air.

at the end of the final day, both you and michelle count all contributions. the total count is a little over thirty-five thousand dollars -- more than the needed amount. you both are estactic. the two of you ride to the bank afterwards so michelle can deposit the money into the center's account. she smiles the entire way. it feels good having been a part of such a positive deed. when you arrive, michelle offers to let you rest while she goes in to make the deposit. you agree. it's been a long day.

when she returns to the car and sits into the driver's seat, she leans over and tosses a stuffed bank envelope into your surprised lap, along with a bank receipt. "what's this?" you ask, a puzzled look on your face. "didn't you deposit the money?"

"not all of it," michelle casually replies. she flashes a thick wad of one-hundred dollars bills into your stunned face. "the fundraiser only needed twenty grand. so I kept ten thousand for me, and gave you the other five."

you frown. stare blankly at the receipt for the $20,000 deposit. she continues to talk as you sit and quietly listen, in complete disbelief.

"i plan to tell the kids that we came up short and we need ten thousand dollars more," michelle smirked. "so keep your damn mouth shut!"


what would you do if this happened to you?

Friday, May 16, 2008

Hypothetically Speaking




you've always known he was into some bad things.

hanging out with people he had no business being with. doing things he had no business doing. only nineteen, the handsome little boy that you had such big dreams for has become someone you have a hard time recognizing anymore. the streets have gotten into his ear, corrupted his mind. it hurts your core to see him destroy his future like this, but what can you do? he's your son and you love him without fail.

when you heard about the raid on that street that he's always hanging on, a bad feeling crept over you. in your spirit you already knew. they had your baby. your only son was going to jail. it was later confirmed when you got that one sad call. hearing his dispirited tone broke your heart as he said quietly into the phone "I'm sorry."

drug trafficking.

ten to twenty years in federal prison. you felt as though that cold judge had handed that same sentence to you when you heard that gavel drop. the tears in your sons eyes proved his sorrow. he was finally getting his rude awakening.

sixty long days later, around 3 a.m., you are suddenly jerked awake by a thunderous pounding on your bedroom window. you panic, look to your window and see what looks to be the silhouette of your son, still in his prison orange.

"mom!! help me! open the door! please!! open the door!"

he pounds harder, his muffled screams you make out through the window begging you to let him in. he has escaped. he is remorseful and promises to do a complete 180 if you help him.


Question: what would you do if this happened to you?