Even though I haven’t always realized it, community has played a huge role in my life.

I grew up in a stereotypical small town—exactly the kind you hear about in country music songs. Everybody knew everybody. The kids you graduated with were the same kids you played with at recess in kindergarten, and it was not possible to walk in our local grocery store without seeing someone you knew.

By the time I got to high school and began my college search, I was so sick of my small hometown that I was using college applications as a one-way ticket out. It’s not that I hated where I grew up, but I definitely didn’t understand what a special thing growing up in my close-knit community was. I didn’t realize how much I depended on the community around me and my small, close group of high school friends who I still depend on today. This community was something I had always had, so I took it for granted. I was just ready to go somewhere new, meet new people, learn about different cultures and start fresh. I wanted to have a conversation with someone who didn’t already know my life story.

As I sat in my room that I’d lived in since I was a baby and applied to colleges, all at least 700 miles from home, I never realized that it would end up being the hardest, most terrifying, yet without a doubt most rewarding thing I’d ever done. After I made my somewhat random decision, I ended up here at UGA, where the student population is four times the population of my hometown.

This made for quite the transition.

After the first week of excitement, starting classes, trying not to get lost, meeting hall mates and awkwardly trying to sit with strangers at Bolton, I began to feel lonely, homesick, and out-of-place. It did help that I was one of the lucky ones who had a really great freshman year roommate who I instantly became friends with. She introduced me to some of her friends and without her I’m not sure I would’ve made it through the first few weeks here.

Still, I felt like everyone was always with their friends from home talking about high school or their new sorority or something else I couldn’t relate to. I found myself craving the sense of community that I had ran from. I wanted nothing more than to walk in to a grocery store or pull in to a gas station and run into a friend’s mom, my elementary school teacher, that old couple who lived down the street, or just any familiar face.

I missed the comfort that came with being part of a community.

Once I left home, it didn’t take long for me to realize how important community was. In fact, leaving home was probably the only way I ever would have. I learned that we naturally desire the feeling that we belong to something, and it is so important to be surrounded with individuals who care for, appreciate, and encourage you while you do the same for them. It is human nature.

Although I felt pretty intimidated, I didn’t doubt that with time I would find my place on campus.

So I became that freshman. I went to every activity fair and club interest meeting, I collected countless flyers, I put my name on dozens of email lists (which I still regret everyday when I look at my inbox) and eventually I landed at two places on campus that would end up feeling like home to me.

The first one was Relay For Life. This was intriguing to me because I had participated in Relay for years so it felt familiar to me. I joined a committee last year and was lucky enough to be selected for the executive board this year. The community within this organization has amazed me. It doesn’t take long to feel like part of the Relay family. Relay is filled with so many selfless people who truly care about others and dedicate so much of themselves to this organization.

I recently saw this quote that reminded me of the Relay community:

“Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful committed people can change the world. Indeed, it is the only thing that ever has.”

We all push and encourage each other to be the best we can. We recognize that when we all come together as a community, we can accomplish amazing things.

The second place on campus that I have found community in is the Wesley Foundation. Wesley is a campus ministry that has an all-freshman branch called Freshley. I joined Freshley last year and am a part of Wesley this year. Through Freshley and Wesley I’ve had the opportunity to join small groups where I’ve built incredible relationships with some of the most genuine people I’ve ever met.

The people I have met through Wesley have changed my life and helped me grow in ways I never would have thought possible. Of all the time I’ve spent studying during my first three and a half semesters, the most valuable thing I’ve learned is how important it is to build relationships and to spend time with others who will be there with you during all of life’s craziness. Life can be hard and at times probably unbearable if you don’t have people you can count on to have your back.

At this point in life, it is so easy to get caught up in school but at the end of the day, life really isn’t about your GPA, or your major, or what grad schools you can get into, it’s about the people we meet, friends we make, and the lives we touch along the way.

Everyone has regrets: something you should not have done, or maybe something you should have. Whether that means a hook up that should have never happened or not going on that trip to Europe, we all have them. My biggest regret, however, is one that continues to haunt me. I wanted to make sure people understand that they are not alone when they face such emotional issues. I want to share my mess that has become my message.

When I was six years old, my mother had to start going to the hospital. I never thought anything of it. She was sick, so she would get better. That was what happened to people who were sick. My six-year-old brain couldn’t understand that cancer was not your every day cold.

The hospital was boring and no place for someone my age. I did not want to be there. All I wanted to do was play and have fun. I wanted to be with my friends. Why did I have to be stuck there? Why me? Why was my family not like everyone else?

My mom was always sleeping when we were in the hospital. This chapped-lipped, bald-headed woman was not my mother. This woman silently staring at me with glazed brown eyes was a stranger to me. My mother was fun-loving. She had beautiful, brown hair. She was not this woman who lay in a pale, blue hospital gown, constantly surrounded by men and woman in white coats.

So, I left her alone in her hospital bed with my dad. My mom suffered while I decided to play with the nurses instead. They wanted to make me laugh. They wanted to play with me.

I was more concerned with my own happiness than realizing that this visit at the hospital might be our last.

And, unfortunately, one night it was. I can so clearly remember my dad pulling my sister and I into his room and telling us mommy had passed away last night. My sister immediately began to cry. I did not. I did not understand. What did he mean she was not coming back? She was my mother. Where had she gone?

I had wasted my last moments with my mother and with people I will never, and have never, seen again. How could I have done that to my poor mom? Or even my dad? They are battling a life-taking disease together, and I was just a stupid, attention-seeking girl. I do not even remember my last words to her.

What kind of daughter am I to have done that? – This phrase was constantly ingrained in my head.

So, I became a devoted daughter to my father and built up a huge emotional wall. Everything I did was for him. I wanted to make him proud in order to make up for the disgrace I had done to my mother. Every club I joined, every position I ran for was all for him to love me and be proud of me. I only had one biological parent left, and I was determined to get it right this time.

I was a woman consumed. “Do it for your father. Daddy would hate to see you do badly on this test. How could you disappoint him like that? He would want you to be president of your class. Why didn’t you push harder?” So, I pushed. To be better.

Maybe, I would think to myself, if I was busy enough I could escape these feelings.

I was wrong. I had to constantly tell myself, “Stay strong. Do not let them see how this affects you.” I told myself that everyday. Every counseling session. Every time someone called my step-mom my real mom. Every stupid “your mom” joke. I held back tears.

It continued to bother me, but I had never been truly affected by it until I started college. It started out like any other school; I became super involved and still hoped to make my dad proud. However, college had introduced me to something I had never experienced before: the power of alcohol.

Alcohol was my ultimate escape. It started to become pretty prevalent in my life, as it does with most college students. It made me feel fun and alive. Yet, “Blackout Annabelle” was not fun like other people. I did not do stupid things and make people laugh. “Blackout Annabelle” finally had no more boundaries and could truly express my fears and my biggest regret.

 I was stretched thin, just as I was the rest of my life, but the alcohol made me break down.

My friends in college were the first people to truly get my full story. My true self was revealed; there was no turning back. They discovered that I hated myself for not caring enough for my mother in her last hours. I hated the fact that cancer treatments can cure some but leave some to die. I hated that my sister and I might be next, and the same thing might happen to my future family.

This was the first time I was honest with my friends and myself. No counselor or adult had been able to break down that wall. Unfortunately, it was alcohol-induced. All the same, I woke up the next morning feeling relieved. I had, I guess you could say, officially confessed my sin, my big regret.

I honestly still fight these feelings. It is a constantly battle. However, I have come to terms with the fact that I need to be more open with my friends and, mostly, myself.

I need to stop trying so hard to make up for something I cannot fix. I can no longer hide these underlying feelings. I cannot battle this alone and let it develop into something more serious.

I have learned to channel my sadness and regret through Relay For Life. I run and raise awareness about cancer. There, I am surrounded by people who have suffered just as I have. They understand and support me. I am able to make my father proud in an organization that supports the memory of my mother.

I can share my story and work towards a cause that ensures this regret will not happen to any more daughters. I could not be more thankful for everything that they have done for me.

People who love and care about you surround you, whether you realize it or not. The hardest part is admitting it. Once you do, you have that confidant who will help you out of the dark and into the light.

I honestly do not know where I would be without my friends. They know every flaw and every regret I have; and yet, they still stand by my side and pick me up when I’m down. I believe that they were sent to me by my mom, as her way of saying, “I forgive you. Now, forgive yourself.”

The main point of this story is forgive yourself. A life filled with regret is no life at all. Be true to yourself, emotionally and physically. Happiness will find you if you are willing to find it.

There are some people that are put into your life that are meant to change the path of your existence forever. For me, that person was my grandmother.

Ever since I can remember, going to my grandmother’s house was always such a special treat, even though she only lived about an hour plus some change away in Toccoa, Georgia and we went to visit pretty frequently when I was a child. Toccoa is a super small town: in 2000, the population was 9,323 people. In a place like that, everything seems charming and traditional and somehow just right (and I was thinking that even when I was tiny).

My grandmother seemed to know everyone in the town, and always treated people she knew and had just met with the exact same kindness.

She was the funniest, most thoughtful, most beautiful woman I could have ever wanted to have in my life: so when she passed away in 2014, I was absolutely devastated, and I couldn’t really come to terms with it. She had just been driving a few months prior!

My grandmother was 91 when she passed away, and now that I look back on it, I think that it was so hard for me to accept that she had died because she had been alive for so long and had so many great stories to tell and had touched so many lives that she seemed like an immortal being.

Ultimately, my grandmother passed away from cancer, and this led to my involvement with Relay for Life. My grandma was always very big on philanthropy and doing everything she could to change the world, so I joined with the mentality that she would have loved everything that Relay stood for.

But now that I am into my second semester of Relay, I can now say that I have found a family here.

My committee is only women, and they all feel like the sisters I never had. It’s amazing to think that every single one of us in that group has been touched by cancer either directly or indirectly, and that we all joined with the intent on spreading the word about standing up to cancer and helping in any way that we can to make other people’s lives that have been affected better.

I’m writing about my grandmother’s death as an important moment in my life because through a negative experience, I was able to learn about the positive ways to help people who are struggling with the illness of a loved one, regardless of if the loved one has cancer or not.

Because of my grandmother, I’ve learned that kindness and love are often both the best forms of medicine, and I hope that I am able to spread both through my involvement with Relay for Life.

“It’s cancer.” We hear these words every day—whether it’s in reference to the lump they found in your mother’s breast, the reason you just lost a loved one, or a friend’s recent diagnosis.

This is the reason I immediately joined UGA Relay For Life when I entered college, because I was tired of living in a world where everyone seemed to have cancer. Although no one in my immediate family had cancer at the time, I was constantly exposed to the sadness and devastation cancer wreaked on the people I saw every day.

Shortly after becoming involved with the organization, two very close family members were diagnosed with aggressive terminal cancers.

Rather than throwing in the towel, I turned my sadness and frustration into passion and determination and gave my all to Relay in hopes that my efforts would help to someday create a world with no more cancer. Part of these efforts entail visiting the Atlanta Hope Lodge, a hotel-like accommodation near Emory’s Winship Cancer Institute where cancer patients traveling long distances to receive their treatments can stay free of charge, courtesy of the American Cancer Society and the money we raise through Relay For Life.

It’s a simple visit: we cook them a hot meal, make sure their needs are met, and sit down with them for some conversation. These people confide in us, sharing their stories fully and explaining how cancer affects their lives.

When strangers—and often, friends—hear me talk about Hope Lodge, they say, “why would you do that?” Why would I subject myself to so much sadness, why I would “waste my time” trying to cheer up a bunch of sick people in my spare time?

“Doesn’t that just make you lose all hope?”

I’ve never felt more hope than what I feel when I sit with those people. Hope Lodge residents radiate a certain hopefulness that can’t be matched. Despite their circumstances, these people maintain positive attitudes and have an appreciation for life that no one else can really understand until they’ve been in Hope Lodge residents’ shoes.

UGA Relay For Life has taught me a lot, but perhaps the most valuable lesson is to never lose my faith in the organization’s mission and most importantly, to never give up hope. When I feel defeated, whether it be from school, a job, or what have you, I think of the endless hope that those cancer patients have and I realize how thankful I am to have had this opportunity to meet such inspiring people and to fight for such a worthy cause.

The summer before my sophomore year of college, I took my dad to his annual colonoscopy.

As he was waking up from under his anesthesia, the nurses called me back to see him, where he was in a room with other patients waking up from their procedures. My mom had warned me that morning that his Parkinson’s disease would make him take longer to wake up.

I was joking with him about how groggy he was when the doctor came in. The doctor sat me down and said, “It doesn’t look good. It’s probably cancer. Once your dad is more awake, I want to meet with both of you in my office,” but all I heard was “CANCER.”

Cancer had already had a huge impact on my life.

I watched as it took three of my friends’ parents, one of my high school classmates, and other cousins and aunts. I was numb. That day we scheduled scans for the next week and more doctor appointments.

The doctor said he wanted to go ahead and do everything they could as soon as possible, so we did. Dad had scans done that confirmed he did indeed have colon cancer, and it had already spread to his liver. Doctors removed the cancerous part of his colon. Then he went through countless rounds of chemo to decrease the size of the cancerous spots on his liver so the cancerous part of his liver could be removed with more surgery.

That summer, my family became much closer. I had always been a daddy’s girl, but while I was in high school, we argued a lot. After his cancer diagnosis, we definitely grew closer again. I enjoyed being a part of my dad’s recovery: spending the nights with him at the hospital and going to his chemo appointments.

My dad completed more chemotherapy treatments, just in time so that he could be finished for our trip to Daytona Beach. But as soon as we returned home, the doctor told us that Dad’s cancer wasn’t gone. There were still some spots on his liver, so he went through more rounds of chemo and some radiation.

The cancerous spots decreased in size but haven’t completely gone away yet. He just finished his third round of treatments three years after his cancer diagnosis. After watching him endure so many rounds of chemo and radiation, eventually I started to feel a little frustrated.

I kept thinking why does it have to be my dad?

Why couldn’t I have been one of those people whose family was totally unaffected by cancer?

This fall, my grandfather was also diagnosed with colon cancer. He took chemo pills and went through radiation.

My family thought that since we had already gone through so much chemo and radiation with my dad, we would know what to expect with my grandfather’s treatments. However, instead of really helping, his chemo and radiation treatments just seemed to hurt him more.

After numerous hospitalizations and a COPD diagnosis, Hospice moved my grandfather into my parents’ home. Over spring break, I got to come home and spend lots of time with him. During that week, he really perked up and stood up for the first time in almost two months.

My parents started to talk about the possibility of taking him out of Hospice because it really looked like he was going to get better. I left home the last Sunday of spring break and kissed my grandfather goodbye and he told me to “look out for the car behind the car in front of you” like he always did.

I was planning on coming back home just two weeks later to celebrate Easter with my family, so I didn’t think much of our goodbye that day. Just three days later, my grandfather passed away.

My sophomore year, I joined UGA Relay For Life soon after my dad’s first cancer diagnosis. Relay gave me a way to help in his fight against cancer. As an executive board member of Relay this year, I have become friends with so many others whose lives have been affected by this terrible disease. Many have lost family members to cancer and yet continue to fight for a future without cancer.

For a long time, I felt helpless against cancer. I can’t help but think that if my grandfather had just lived two weeks longer, I could have said a real goodbye to him. I Relay for that two weeks.

I Relay so that one day some girl can have two more weeks with her grandfather because I know how much that time would mean to me.

What is your most valuable resource?

Some answers might vary to scarce resources like coal or oil or natural gas, some might say money, some might say people. I say time.

Everyone has the same amount but everyone uses theirs differently. You cannot exchange it or return it.

You cannot go back. You cannot go forward. Once it is gone, it’s gone. I think time is the most valuable thing people can spend. I think so many people use time as a crutch instead of a tool. If you use your time with resentment or envy, you’ll be disappointed. But if you cherish it and spend it in a positive light, I really do think you will live a fuller life. I compare my freshman year of college versus my senior year of college.

Freshman year I had all the time in the world. How did I spend it? Going out late, catching up on sleep the next day, watching movies, mindlessly playing on my phone. Now here I am a senior wondering if I had more hours in the day as a freshman. Yes this is due to the fact that I got more involved, but I just cherish my time so much more now. I think the past few years have shed light on how valuable of a resource time really is.

UGA Relay For Life has been a major factor in this. My friend found out her dad had stage 4 cancer a while back.

He died just recently.

I cannot wrap my mind around that because it is so hard to imagine. You hear horror stories of it all the time, but it is not until it personally effects you that you begin to take notice. I think it is so sad that it takes something like this for people to realize how important our cause is and why we do what we do.

This is when it really hits home.

That is the thing about time. You cannot borrow time. You cannot gain any more time. It expires everyday. What you do in that span is so important because it is a day you will never get back.

Coach Joni Taylor, the head Women’s Basketball Coach at the University of Georgia, came to speak at an exec meeting and I will never forget what she said. She stated, “if you are still thinking about what you did yesterday then you have not done enough today.”

That really struck me. I used to make to do lists with things I wanted to accomplish and I would just say “If I can just make it through today, I’ll be good. Tomorrow I can rest and relax.” And while I do think it is important to take a break from this stressful time of life, I think it is important to keep moving forward and to keep pushing yourself. I hate when people say “I don’t have time.” There is a difference between not having time and not making time.

If there is one thing I learned throughout my three and a half years at Georgia so far, it is to make the time. If you commit to something, make sure you make the time. If someone asks for help, make the time.

Don’t cancel plans. Don’t flake. Spend time with friends and family. Spend time with teachers. Spend time with classmates. Support your friends’ causes and efforts. I’ve learned that just making the effort and making the time goes a long way. I think making people realize how valuable a resource time is is tricky because it is not necessarily tangible. You can’t do anything with it but spend it. You just have to choose what you spend it on.

In my last few months here in Athens, I devote myself to not wasting a minute of my time when it could be spent towards something much more meaningful.

We live in a day and age where it’s difficult to find someone who’s life hasn’t been affected by cancer in some way. Unfortunately, like many others, I can’t remember the point in my life where cancer wasn’t in my vocabulary.

From a young age I have been exposed this disease that has robbed me and my family of so many memories with the ones we love. It became all too real in high school, when my best friend was sleeping over on school nights while her parents were away in Mexico on experimental chemotherapy trips to attack her father’s colon cancer.

It became all too real when my aunt was asking us to come visit to explain her terminal diagnosis in person, rather than over the phone. It became all too real when my cousin, and built in field trip chaperone, was told that only 3 hospitals on the east coast would even look at his case because it was so rare and unexplored.

It became too real when the man who knew how to light up a room with his belly laugh was told he had throat cancer that barely allowed him to speak at most points during his treatment. It all became too real, and too unbearable at a speed that took my anxiety to a whole new level.

Every time the phone rang, my heart sank into my stomach wondering if it would be an update that would change everything. I lived my life in fear of what cancer was taking from my loved ones.

Day in and day out, I couldn’t find solace that I was away at college and unable to help, even though all I could do was miniscule in compared to their daily fights against this horrible disease.

And then I found Relay For Life at Virginia Tech.

As a confused little freshman, I joined a random person’s team (shoutout to my now BFF), and arrived at the rainy and chilly event, unsure of what to expect of the night. I knew there was music, food, and community, but I didn’t expect to find the comfort my soul so desperately needed.

As I heard others speak about their battles with cancer, the loss of their loved ones, their continuing bouts, my eyes were gently opened to all that I could do to help. Even from hundreds of miles away, I could do something that would help change someone’s life.

Here I am, 3 Relays later, 2 committee families created, and one final Relay For Life at Virginia Tech approaching, and I am at a loss for words to express how much this organization has given to me. Opportunities to stray far outside my comfort zone, to not settle for mediocrity, and to express all the love I feel inside of me for the wonderful members of the executive team and committee of Relay For Life at Virginia Tech.

A Relay friendship is unlike any other. It is created on the basis that we’ve all been hurt by the whirlwind of cancer in our lifetimes, and while that hurt is immense, we can counter it with hard work and determination to make our event successful and spread the mission of the American Cancer Society.

In every event we put on or Cookout milkshake we eat, we bond a little more, learn a little more about each other, and eventually fill some of the hurting void that cancer left with a friendship that will last a lifetime. I find myself at a loss for words to explain what these friendships mean to me and I’m continually thankful for all the twisted paths that brought us all together.

I am thankful to Relay this year in memory of my Aunt Marilyn and Rich Conklin, in honor of my cousin Terry Carson, and in celebration of Jere O’Brien kicking cancer’s ass this year.

The first time I heard the word ‘cancer’ was in the third grade when it was on one of my Words of the Week sheets.

The class received the sheet on Monday and by Friday we all had to know how to spell and the definition of the word. For me, the word itself was easy to spell but rather difficult to understand. C-A-N-C-E-R.

C. I looked up the word and the definition was along the lines of “an invasive and destructive tumor.”

So then, my third grader self had to also look up the word ‘tumor’ and after discovering what it was and putting it together, I realized that this was not a good thing.

I asked my teacher what this word really meant and all she told me that it was some terrible condition that makes a family come together. At that moment in time, I thought this woman was crazy; that’s not what the dictionary says. But as an awkward eight year old I just confusingly giggled and thanked my teacher for her time.

A. My second memory was when a girl I played basketball with lost her mother to breast cancer.

It affected the entire community. I wasn’t even good friends with the girl but I remember wanting to be there for her in any way possible.

I could not imagine losing my motivation, my biggest supporter, my best friend- life without my mom is one I cannot mentally picture. This is when I began to try to understand the definition my grade school teacher gave me.

N. Memory number three came into my life when my mom’s best friend was diagnosed with breast cancer.

This is when my hatred for cancer really started to arise. My mom’s best friend, Donna, is one of the most amazing women on this earth. She is unbelievably intelligent, beautiful, and inspirational. So my main question: how did such an incredible, uplifting woman have such a malicious mass in her body? I understand that life isn’t fair but this was too much. Now I began to actually see what my teacher meant.

C. Relay for Life 2015 became a part of my life because of one of my good friends who made a team and wanted me to join it.

At first I signed up because I wanted to be apart of something here at Virginia Tech (and to make her stop bugging me about it) but after hearing her story, my entire perspective changed. Seeing something truly affect one of my best friends made me want to do something. She is one of the strongest young women I know yet when the word ‘cancer’ is said in conversation, I know it hits her hard. I never fully realized that cancer is so “well known” in almost every household. It made me think about how fortunate I was that I didn’t have a direct hit to the heart.

E. “I didn’t want you to worry.”

Of course when those words came out of my father’s mouth, I knew something was wrong. The summer before my second year of college, my dad said that statement to me. Little did I know that this sentence followed one along the lines of ‘I have cancer in my colon.’

You never think it will happen to you and even when it does, you still don’t believe that it did. It hit me like a cannonball in the gut. I felt like air couldn’t get to my lungs- I could barely speak two words. He ‘didn’t want me to worry’ because I’m a busy person here at college. Yes, I’m a double major.

And yes, I’m in a sorority. And yes, I’m already stressed about being five and a half hours away from home. But NO, these things do not come before my own father. After trying to explain this to my dad he still didn’t agree. And that’s the thing about cancer: it makes everyone who is dealing with it so much more selfless. You don’t want to force it upon other people but you can’t deal with it by yourself.

R. Relay for Life 2016 is where I stand today. After all of my encounters with cancer, I took it upon myself to make sure I made a difference.

Fortunately, I was chosen to be a part of the Relay for Life Fundraising Committee (aka the best one). My relay family is one of the greatest ones I’ve been a part of at Virginia Tech. Each and every one of them has dealt with cancer in some way and they are the most supportive and loving people on this planet. They are here for me through every struggle I have and I am beyond blessed to be apart of such an amazing group of people.

In case you were wondering, I got a perfect score on my Words of the Week test that week, which was expected because I was an overachiever in elementary school. However, I would’ve never guessed that this one word I was forced to learn in the third grade would affect my everyday life and shape me into the individual that I am today.

I can honestly say that cancer is one of the worst things to ever cross someone’s life, but, with support, dedication, and love, anyone can overcome the battle.

I want to change the world. It is not a dream or vision but a reality that I am able to change the world for the better. I figured this out while visiting New York, New York. For my 16th birthday present, my parents took me and my best friend sightseeing for the weekend.

The night before we left to go home, we visited Ray’s Pizza, which had been personally recommended to me. This was, in fact, one of the primary reasons I wanted to visit, for the fabled New York style pizza.

The pizza was delicious, but I made my discovery while walking back to our hotel.

We had gotten three whole pizzas all topped with unique toppings for the four of us to split, and I was carrying the box with the few slices leftover. I was admittedly walking slower than normal because of the large amount of hot cheesy pizza, and so maybe that was what caused me to notice the homeless man half-asleep on the edge of the sidewalk.

Most people in New York City are so busy they don’t notice, or pretend not to notice, the large amount of unfortunate people without homes. I was planning on eating the pizza  I held in my hands for breakfast the next morning.

But seeing someone without anything while I had so much just did not seem right to me.

I was not compelled by guilt nor did I feel any responsibility for his condition, instead I acted on what was an obvious wrong that I could make right. He was hungry. I had food. Our conversation lasted no more than thirty seconds; the look of surprise and gratitude in his eyes stays with me to this day. On that day, I discovered just how easy it is to change a life.

The way the pizza had an effect on the man whom I had not met uncovered a dramatic revelation: I can change lives and by changing lives, I can change the world.

The price of the pizza was not the important part; however, the gesture of giving what I did not need was where I found the breakthrough. Because of my interaction in New York, I have found new discoveries that I want to dive into. I want to know why it is right for me to get an iPhone 6 for Christmas, while other people my age do not have a dinner on Christmas. I want to know why it is acceptable for me to have luxuries yet some do not have necessities.

I am not tackling world hunger or extreme poverty by giving away some pizza, but I do believe I can personally change the world for the better. I want to learn how I can drastically improve the lives of those who I interact with. It now seems like common sense when I tell people that I want to help people. Who doesn’t?

It is logical to dedicate your life to helping people, because the feeling you get from it cannot be expressed in words.

That is something that is best discovered on your own. Today, I give back by participating in Virginia Tech Relay For Life – which has raised over $5 million for cancer research and patient services. Join me today to make a difference in the lives of millions.

(Written by Juliana Leckszas)

I have been given the amazing opportunity to be on the executive board for the 2015- 2016 Relay For Life at Virginia Tech. I was not given just a board of fellow peers and students to work with to plan the event this year…I was given a family.

Throughout the fall semester we grew from just a group of single individuals meeting each other for the first time into something so cohesive and wonderful. We all complement each other and help each other grow and flourish so that we can put on the best Relay For Life event that we can.

When you are apart of such a big event like Relay For Life especially at Virginia Tech where we are the largest collegiate Relay For Life in the world you always get the question so why are you involved in an event like this. Whenever I am asked this question I could talk your ear off for hours about the many different reasons as to why I want and love to be apart of Relay For Life.

However, the beauty of Relay For Life is that you don’t have to be personally affected by cancer to be apart of the event.

Yes, the majority of people that participate have been affected somehow by cancer in their life whether it be the grandmother had cancer, their dad had cancer, their neighbor had cancer, etc., but you also see the people that come out and participate just because they want to support the cause and that is one of my favorite parts about Relay For Life.

Relay For Life is about everyone coming together to support one cause and that is the fight against cancer.

One of the main reasons why I relay takes me back to when I was 10 years old. My parents sat me and my older brother down and told us that Grampy had lung cancer. Now, as a 10 year old I had a hard time wrapping my brain around what exactly cancer was and how it was going to affect my Grampy. My parents did their best to explain what was going on to a 10 and 13 year old, but they could only tell us so much.

Finally, the question surfaced, “is Grampy going to die?”

Those words coming out of a little child’s mouth should never have to be said, but my parents knew they had to answer.

My mom was gone a lot the next couple of months traveling to and from home to be with Grampy. We would visit him a few times a month, but each time we went we could see the progression of him getting worse and worse and the visits would get harder.

One day, my brother and me came home from school and our stepfather picked us up from the bus stop. He brought us inside and sat us on the couch and gave us the news that Grampy had passed peacefully in his sleep. The cancer had become too much for his body and he couldn’t hold on any longer.

Tears immediately burst from both of our eyes as we realized that we were never going to see Grampy again. That night we drove to Maryland to be with our mom and the rest of the family to get ready for the funeral.

I will never forget the last moments I had with my Grampy and all of wonderful memories before he was sick.

I relay so that no one has to say good-bye to a loved one because of cancer. I relay because no one should have to grow up without a mom or a dad or a sibling because of cancer. I relay because cancer has taken too many lives.

Virginia Tech Relay For Life has given me an amazing opportunity to make a difference in so many lives. I am proud of what we have accomplished so far this year and I look forward to what the spring semester has in store. We won’t stop fighting until cancer is no more. For more infromation visit vtrelay.org.