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Convalescent Home This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine.

By Oelania P, Brooklyn, NY

   It was a hot July day. I did not know what to expect. I thought I wanted to volunteer, but I was having second thoughts about spending my afternoon in a convalescent home. Turning back was a thought, but it was too late, so I signed in and headed toward the recreation room.

When I arrived, there were some people sitting around, but no residents. I started talking to a girl who asked me why I was volunteering. I said for something to do over the summer, and asked her the same question, expecting a similar reply. But she told me that this was her community service as ordered by the courts. Now I was sure that I was the only person volunteering who had never spent time in jail. I wanted to go home.

Eventually those in charge appeared and brought me upstairs to get some of the residents. What had possessed me to do this?

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