[quote]Here's what the rabbi told my depressed granny: "It is possible the person you are supposed to help, has not yet been born."
I love that.
I've been suicidal off and on since I was 10 years old, but part of the reason I never made an attempt is because I always wanted to make a difference in someone's life.
When I was 25, I became friends with a neighbourhood couple and their children. One summer day, I was playing in the yard with their 2-y.o. son Mark when the next-door neighbour boy came out of his front door, and his vicious dog followed.
Mark began excitedly babbling about the "goggie" and reached out to pet her.
She whipped her head around to glare at him, and I got a horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach.
I took two quick steps forward, grabbed Mark by his biceps, and swung him up and away from the dog just as she lunged for him.
She sank her teeth into my knee, then released. I yelled "bad dog" and aggressively kicked at her face, which made her back up instead of pressing forward for another attack.
Finally, by that point, the stupid neighbour boy had realised what was happening, and took the dog back into his house.
I ended up with deep puncture wounds from the dog's teeth, resulting in a few stitches and a course of antibiotics.
Since the family had just gotten the dog from their Indian Reserve, the dog was quarantined for observation, then destroyed. Fortunately, she wasn't rabid, so at least I didn't have to worry about that.
I'm sure Mark forgot about the incident a few days after it happened (he was just a toddler), but I still have nightmares where I'm not able to reach him in time and the dog rips his face and ears off and kills him.
I have no doubt in my mind that if I hadn't stepped forward and picked him up, she would've done exactly that.
So yeah, you never know whose life you're going to change. It is indeed possible that the person you are supposed to help, has not yet been born.