Each team had crafted a unique design and members wasted no time looking for junks — hoses, batteries, propellers, tubes, and engines. After several hours of hard work and meticulous technical maneuverings, both teams finished project. The team that used a propeller to thrust torpedo won.

I’m amazed that people can actually make something innovative out of nothing. And in a short time! For me, it doesn’t matter which team won. As far as effort and creativity are concerned, both teams won big time.

Can we make a “torpedo” out of our personal junk? How can we optimize what we have?

I feel sad when people blame everyone and everything except themselves when something bad happens in their lives. I know a 30-year-old man who can’t seem to pursue a career. He quits jobs as quickly as he changes clothes. Because of his perceived “misfortunes,” he accuses employers and co-workers of politicking, blames parents for not supporting him enough, faults his neighborhood for “bad Luck,” and even chides his looks and genes for his desperate circumstances.

In reality, this man is considered lucky by current standards. Despite his complaints, he actually finished a degree in an expensive private school and was raised in a middle class neighborhood by supportive and educated parents.

In my opinion, this man is making a junk out of his privileged status.

Compare this man to Mama Teeya. At age 60, she migrated to North America with her husband. When she came, she didn’t know how to drive a car so she had to walk to look for work — even in winter. Trying to save money, she moved from one apartment to next more affordable shelter. While everyone was asleep, she was working. Rain or shine, she walked to work with umbrella in tow.

Thrilled with promise of a flowering dogwood, I happily nourished new sapling with both water and anticipation. Yet weeks later, to my naive impatience, there were no flowers.

Greek philosopher Epictetus, said, "No great thing is created suddenly, any more than a bunch of grapes or a fig. If you tell me that you desire a fig, I answer you that there must be time. Let it first blossom, then bear fruit, then ripen."

Eventually, we get back what we give away. Today, after caring for my dogwood tree year after year, it brightens spring with glorious blossoms and flowers.