This is a piece I wrote to submit to a magazine, The SUN. They have an area entitled Readers Write. Readers address subjects on which they're the only authority. The topic which will appear in the February 2007 issue was HELP.

When I thought of "help" I first imagined a cry for help. Being stranded in a body of water or trapped in a burning building. A cry for help in either of these instances can summon a lifeguard a nearby boat or in the case of a fire, firemen. With that first thought, several songs also came to mind. The Beatles song HELP (me if you can I'm feeling down), and the song, If I Can Help Somebody.

I live in a brownstone in New York City and recently two of my neighbors asked me for help. One knocked on my door frantically and said she smelled smoke coming from the apartment above her. She said she had knocked on the door and noone answered. I went with her to investigate and ultimately decided quite quickly thereafter to make a call to 911. Help. I told them the situation and the firemen were soon at our building. It turned out our neighbor was inside, sleeping and had something on the stove that was burning. She had been reheating pizza. In a box. Oddly enough, the neighbor in the smoky apartment rang my bell late one night a few months later. I could tell right away she was a little intoxicated and was in some sort of predicament. She asked if she could come in, I said of course, and almost before she was inside she blurted out that she had just been fired from her new job. In neither of those situations did I have to go out of my way, but I hear of people traveling great distances to be of service. As in the marine, who before being sent overseas and maybe even before enlisting, felt compelled to travel to the Katrina area and delivered a carload of food and supplies. This person was not paid to do that but heard the cry for help and responded. I sometimes wish I could have responded heroically to situations like that. I have been of help though in my way. I have donated blood, given money to AIDS, the Democratic National Convention, the Policemen's Benevolent Association, Feed The Children, UNICEF, have sponsored a child from Children International, raised money at work to donate to the Bowery for food at Thanksgiving, contributed to disasters like 9/11, earthquakes and various floods and/or hurricanes such as Katrina, contributed to aid Darfur and written letters for Amnesty International. I have also lent money to a friend or two, my ex-husband - quite a few times - and to one of my sisters, who called me an angel.

I may have thought of a cry for help on first thought because I cried out for help when I was being raped. In my apartment. I cried out meekly for my next door neighbor. I had been on a date, to a club - dancing and whatever, and after he drove me home he asked to come up for a drink or coffee. Immediately after he left I received help from the police and then from the therapist at my Rape Group which I attended for about 8 weeks. There have also been other occasions when I had to seek help: visiting my boyfriend who lived on the top floor, the 12th, and being trapped in the elevator that got stuck just below that floor, and yelling to him for help. I was probably even a little claustrophobic at the time; asking my neighbors above and below me to turn down their very loud music, to which I mostly received no response and learned that people would rather turn off than turn down; calling the animal rescue people to get the squirrel out of my bedroom; asking my ex-husband to take my cat and care for him because I was too depressed to do so. And I have had to seek help from various psychiatrists and psychologists to help me maintain my equilibrium and get me back on my feet.

I did not always believe in God but I do now and I believe that God is the supreme helper. I believe God healed me finally of my depression. God is always there. Reminding me of his/her support, as well as reminding me and encouraging me to do the same for my fellows.