The Silent Joy of Being Helpful

I don’t seek fame, I don’t seek praise,
No need for fireworks, or grand displays.
But if you whisper, “She lent a hand,”
That’s a medal better than anything planned.

No need for statues, no songs in my name,
Just a simple nod in life’s little game.
“I was stuck, and she showed the way,”
That’s enough to brighten my day.

Yet secretly I dream, with a mischievous grin,
What if they say, “She made me win”?
“Her advice saved my house from catching fire,
And her jokes? They’re a comic satire!”

“She’s like Google but with a heart,
Fixing problems, an empathetic art.
Her patience? Like a saint, no less,
Though her kitchen’s often a war-zone mess!”

Still, I’ll laugh, and take no pride,
Because kindness isn’t a thing to hide.
So if I’m remembered as ‘the helpful one,’
I’ll know my life’s purpose was wonderfully done!