I took a class last semester in which we wrote three different papers with the title "The Art of Stealing." Initially I thought, "What the heck could this be about." But my professor explained that we would need to write an essay about what tactics and skills the writers we would want to "steal" or use in our own writing. Seems like a pretty obvious idea, right? That's the point of learning, reading and studying people before us and learn from their successes and errors. We do this with our friends as well. Every year, my sorority has a tradition of talking about what the house has taught them about themselves or what joy it can produce. And every year, someone mentions what they have stolen from each other:

We should steal the best in each other. I don't mean steal each other's punchlines or clothes or try to be just like one another, but steal the little things that make everything just a little better in the world.

My third-grade teacher told us to always smile at the elderly people that stare at us during weekly class mass, because that smile may be the best part of their week. I stole that lesson and have remembered it every time I get the chance.

My older brother is the biggest dreamer in every sense of the phrase. He has the biggest life-goal dreams and the most outrageous sleeping dreams. I try to steal a piece of his ever-extended reach.

One of my friends lives each day as if it is one big party, making the smallest event feel like we are in a music video. I try to steal a piece of her liveliness.

My mom has the drive to not stop until a job is done and done right. I try to steal a piece of that aim for perfection.

My dad has never met a stranger. He can talk to any face he passes. I try to steal that friendliness.

My younger brother has the ability to hide all sense of nervousness. He never acts like anything is that big of a deal, and as an anxious person, I especially I try to steal his calmness.

One of my friends has the most spontaneity I have ever met. Whether it is randomly driving to a neighboring town to deciding to book a flight somewhere. I try to steal her ability to make plans.

My grandma never stops, even when she is "resting" she is doing some type of needlework or something is in the oven and she'll be hopping up to get it shortly. I attempt to steal her energy.

My cousins have the most incredible strength to live with happiness and the ability to see the brightest colors after living through some of the darkest days. I want to steal their faith.

One of my friends has the best giggle and can make anyone's worst day the best laugh within seconds. I try to steal her love.

A few of my friends have the immense ability to show and hide pain. They all have different tactics and reasons, but not a single one of them has ever stopped fighting. I try to steal their armor and sword.

One of my friends believes in seeing the absolute best in people no matter their mistakes and flaws. She reminds me to give second chances, and third, and fourth. I want to steal her courage in trust.

Everyone brings something to the table whether that be the biggest smile or the smallest kind word, but there is something — some thing, in every single person that if you look close enough it is worth attempting to steal.

If I stole just the few traits I listed above I think I would be a lot better person, and if we all looked to each other to make ourselves better there would be more smiles. Start looking and you might realize how much you have to learn and how #blessed you are with gifts you can steal.