I wanted gum, and I wanted lots of it. At skyline high school, chewing gum was practically a currency, used to break the ice, make others jealous of you, and provide some relief until lunch began. The only problem was that I was flat broke. Inspiration came in the form of TLC, the same channel that ran shows such as Honey Boo-Boo. It is a rare occasion when one can actually learn from The Learning Channel, but “Extreme Couponing” provided an exception.  After watching some dedicated soccer moms buy $100 worth of groceries for less than $10, I realized; I could do this. I spent just over a week researching coupons and store deals in my free time, and eventually I was ready. I walked into Rite-Aid with a fat stack of coupons, and walked out with 60 packs of gum, and a 4 foot long receipt trailing behind me. After a couple of days, I realized that this was more gum than I would need in a lifetime, and began sharing it with my friends, then with anyone who sat around me, and eventually anyone that I knew that asked politely. The sense of pride in my achievement had me hooked, and I kept coming back for more. Two weeks later, after noticing that the Tupperware in our cabinet was old and cracked, I managed to replace all of the containers in our house, free of charge. Three weeks after that was Halloween, and, through lots of planning and clipping, I acquired enough gum to give out entire packs to the little trick or treaters. Seeing the look on their face made all the work organizing planning and cutting worth it. After couponing for several months, I began to purchase items that our household didn’t need, but were too good of a deal to turn down. The shopping cart began to evolve from being filled with candy and gum to household items, diapers, and cleaning products. After hearing about a family friend making a mission trip to Mexico, I decided that all the supplies could be better used there. When I had given out the gum on Halloween, the kids were happy, but they didn’t need that gum to survive. Some kids did, and I could be the one to provide for them. In total, $200 worth of deodorant, toothpaste, hand sanitizer, sunscreen and other products made their way into the back of the trunk, to be delivered to those who needed it more. This sequence of events led to my realization that giving to those in need emotionally satisfied me more than couponing for myself, and led to the largest deal I ever pulled. After months of searching, and enough clipping to make my thumbs sore, the perfect storm began to take shape. I called and make a special order to make sure target would have enough vitamin water in stock for me to purchase. I drove 50 minutes to the only store that could stock such a large quantity. I walked through the sliding doors with manila envelope in hand, packed with savings, and asked to speak to the manager. Waiting at the register was the hardest part. For over an hour, I helped scan 1,100 bottles of vitamin water, and the additional 1,100 coupons that accompanied it. First the register rose to $1100.00, then fell to $0.00. A small crowd gathered around the register to view the massive transaction, and I heard a pair of adults exclaiming amongst themselves “that kid should be on Extreme Couponing!”  The truck could barely carry the half ton of liquid, and the back row was filled up to the windows. I kept them neatly stacked in a large corner of our garage until the right opportunity arose, in the form of a school food drive. As I hauled the crates in on an early Tuesday morning, the faculty stared from a distance in awe, eventually helping. This was the largest donation they had ever received, and the sense of fulfillment it brought about surpassed anything that gum could have  created. Knowing that these supplies would change the lives of children that I would likely never meet changed me. I began to question myself. How large of an impact on the lives of others could I make? Ever since those events, I have stived to make a difference, be as selfless as I can, think more about the struggles of other people, and worry about less about that little piece of gum.