CMO 112: Short Story: The Journal and the Esay: A short story about friendship, humility, and service.

 

God first. Neighbor second. Self third.

Every now and then, a simple phrase carries the weight of the whole Gospel.

“God first. Neighbor second. Self third.” It’s short enough to fit on a sticky note, but deep enough to reorder a life.

Putting God first doesn’t mean adding more to our to‑do list. It means letting Him be the center of everything we already do. It’s the quiet decision to pray before reacting, to choose honesty over convenience, to ask, “Lord, what do You want from me in this moment” instead of letting our impulses lead the way.

Putting the neighbor second means remembering that every person— the joyful ones, the difficult ones, the ones who drain us, and the ones who surprise us— is someone God loves. It’s choosing patience when we’re tired, kindness when we’re irritated, and compassion when we’d rather look away. It’s the small, hidden sacrifices that say, “You matter. You are seen. You are loved.”

And putting self third doesn’t mean neglecting ourselves. It means letting go of the idea that everything has to revolve around us. It’s humility over ego, service over spotlight, and trust over control. It’s believing that when we put God and others first, God will take care of us in ways we could never take care of ourselves.

In a world that constantly tells us to put ourselves first, this simple ordering becomes a quiet act of rebellion— a way of living that looks a lot like Jesus.

Maybe today, we can try it in one small way: a prayer before a decision, a kind word to someone who needs it, a moment of patience when we’d rather rush.

Little steps. Simple choices. A life reordered by love.

Q: “Hey Carlos! Has the world become crazier or am I losing my mind?”

Sometimes the world does seem a bit out of sorts, but I don’t think you’re losing your mind. Remember, God is the author of our lives and knows exactly what’s happening around us. Maybe He’s allowing things to unfold with His permissive will for now, but don’t be afraid—there are saints, soon-to-be saints, and even those on the outskirts who will one day be saints, all praying, showing mercy to their neighbors, and offering their daily efforts to Christ. In His boundless goodness and mercy, God will eventually guide us back on the right path—think of it as a spiritual reboot. Keep your eyes on Christ, trust Him, surrender everything to Him each day, have faith, and keep being the wonderful neighbor you already are to those in need. God is in control and will ensure that everything turns out as it should. 

Short Story: The Journal and the Essay: A short story about friendship, humility, and service.

Twelve‑year‑old best friends Mateo Alvarez and Jackson Reed had been inseparable since the first day of fourth grade. They were different in all kinds of ways—Mateo was Hispanic and Roman Catholic, Jackson was Caucasian and Presbyterian—but none of that ever mattered. What mattered was that they understood each other. They laughed at the same jokes, played the same video games, and somehow always ended up on the same team during recess.

One chilly March afternoon, their English teacher gave the class a special assignment: “Write about what humility and service mean to you. You may choose a journal entry or an essay.”

Mateo immediately knew he wanted to write a journal entry. Jackson, of course, chose the essay. And that’s where their story really began.

Mateo sat at his desk that evening, tapping his pencil against his notebook. A journal entry felt personal—like talking to God, or maybe to himself. He wrote slowly, thinking about his abuela’s words: “Humility is remembering that everything good comes from God, mijo.”

So he wrote about helping his little sister with her homework even when he wanted to play soccer. He wrote about saying sorry first, even when he didn’t feel like it. He wrote about how service wasn’t always big or dramatic—sometimes it was just doing the dishes without being asked.

Meanwhile, across the neighborhood, Jackson typed away at his computer. He liked structure, so an essay made sense. He wrote about Jesus washing the disciples’ feet and how his pastor said humility means “putting others before yourself without expecting anything back.” He wrote about helping his neighbor carry groceries, and how serving others made him feel connected to something bigger than himself.

The next day, the boys met at their lockers.

“Mine sounds like a diary,” Mateo said, embarrassed.

“Mine sounds like a school report,” Jackson groaned.

They swapped papers anyway.

After a few minutes, Jackson looked up. “Dude… your journal feels real. Like you’re actually trying to live this stuff.”

Mateo shrugged. “Your essay explains things better than I ever could. You make it sound important.”

They stood there for a moment, realizing something neither had expected: They had written about the same truth, just in different ways.

Humility wasn’t about style. It wasn’t about who wrote better. It was about the heart behind the words.

When they turned in their assignments, their teacher smiled. “You two approached the same topic from different angles,” she said, “but both of you captured the heart of humility beautifully.”

Walking home, Mateo nudged Jackson. “Maybe we should try actually doing some of this stuff today.”

Jackson grinned. “Race you to Mrs. Thompson’s porch. She probably needs help with her trash cans.”

And off they ran—two boys, two faith traditions, one shared desire to serve.

Moral / Takeaway

Humility isn’t about thinking less of yourself—it’s about thinking of others with love. And service doesn’t have to be big or dramatic. It’s the small, everyday choices that shape a humble heart.