Write a short paragraph highlighting the importance of doing good deeds everyday ?
Answers
Let me outline for you the many benefits of performing good deeds. I am sure you are already a very generous person. I hope that I can give you even more reasons to do even more good deeds than you currently do.
Help Someone
The smallest good deed is better than the grandest intention. Anonymous
When you do a good deed, you are, of course, helping someone. The homeless person in the photo now has food to eat, thanks to the kindness of these generous women. The person who is the receiver of a good deed or random act of kindness has gotten some help.
However, he received more than just a meal or two. In addition to getting food, he also received the message that he is important and worth helping. This good deed warms his heart as well as fills his stomach.
Help Yourself
Noble deeds and hot baths are the best cures for depression. Dodie Smith
Besides helping someone, doing a good deed warms your own heart and makes you feel good. If you are unemployed or retired, it gives you something worthwhile to do to pass the time. It is a social activity for those who may feel isolated and alone.
Helping others gives you a new perspective and keeps you from focusing on your own problems. By focusing on someone other than yourself, you are reminded that you are not the only one in the world that has problems. In fact, it is possible that there are many people out there whose problems are much worse than yours.
here are mornings you wake up and think, I'll have coffee instead of tea. And there are mornings you sweep open the curtains and announce "Today I'll be a better person." I had one of those. An idea took hold in my head that I should do a good deed a day for a year because a good deed a day might make me a better person – might change the world. I had made resolutions before – to get fit, to lose weight – but never kept them. This resolution, however, had been brewing since I was a child.
I always knew I could be doing more because I was brought up that way. I was the only child of devoted parents. Actually, rewind. My natural father died of lung cancer, leaving my mother, his grief-stricken widow, holding an eight-month-old baby. My stepfather came along when I was six and took on this widow and child. Proof if you need it that he is a good man.
There is more proof, though, because while I was growing up, all plaits and freckles, in a red-brick Leeds semi, my parents were being saints, looking after my gran who lived with us till she was 93, and doing good deed after good deed. My mum volunteered as a cleaner in a hospice, then as a classroom assistant and was later chairman of the governors of an innercity primary school. (There is a generation of young people in East Leeds who know how to make buns and a sponge fish with a soapy heart, who have my mother to thank .)