Growing up, my family and I always did volunteer work, which got me into the habit of helping others. When I was in 6th grade, my mom got involved with an organization that brought refugees from the Middle East to the United States for medical treatment. My mother and step dad offered to foster a girl from Iraq, Zahra, whose family passed away from a car bomb, and to pay for the medical treatment she needed. Her father, brother, mother, and grandmother were all in the car, once her father turned the car on the front of the car exploded. Her internal organs needed reconstruction due to shrapnel and her brother lost his arm.…