For the first time in my entire life, I am inspired by the President. Of course, I’m talking about our new president, the man who asked all Americans to spend a part of their holiday in service to their communities, and not the one who is hellbent on inflicting damage to this country until the very last seconds of his reign. Good riddance, I say. I’ve moved on. Really.

Because I could hardly sit on my couch and be moved to tears while Barack Obama painted the walls of a homeless shelter, I gathered some friends and we went out with garbage bags, brooms and our children to clean up our neighborhood. We skipped a day at the beach and instead wove a slow path through part of our community. For two hours, in the hot sun (sorry, everybody else who doesn’t live in Southern California), the little girls smiled as they picked up cups and straws and gum wrappers and cigarette butts with very little complaint. Maybe it’s because they were afraid of the bossy lady who looked a bit like a man.

Or mabye it was because it was 85 degrees out and they worked their little tushies off. Fortunately, some nice neighbors saw the child labor taking place in their front yard and came running with lots of cold water and chocolate. You can never have enough chocolate when you’re doing manual labor.

One thing I’ve always talked about wanting to instill in Ruby is a sense of giving back to those who are less fortunate. But I’ve come to realize that the only way she will learn it is if I do, as well. And I’m not talking about writing a check. I’m talking about doing things that bring us face-to-face with the realities that surround us. Cleaning our neighborhood was one way to begin this journey. I know I learned a lot about myself this morning; that I can find time to do things that don’t revolve around myself and that Frozen Yogurt is a most effective bribery tool.

While Ruby napped, I frosted cookies that we’d made the night before and we–as a family–dropped them off at a homeless shelter for teens. I’m sure there are other things they could use more than cookies designed to inspire hope, but it’s what I had laying around the kitchen.

Donating my time today was rewarding and reminded me how much greater it is to give than to receive. To be clear: This isn’t about me or what I did and I’m very concerned in writing about it that it will come off as such. I’m not looking for any pats on the back (though I wouldn’t mind a back rub). This isn’t about me. This is about how we choose to live our lives and how easy it is to set aside a small window of time to extend a hand toward something that isn’t necessarily–or at least, perhaps, directly–about us.

I’m feeling hopeful and inspired these days. What a difference a president makes.