Granted
Throughout this past week, I have been privy to different dialogues that have made me start to wonder. Many of them have taken me back several years in my life to a time that opened my eyes to the world around me. Unfortunately, I don't think I go back to those times often enough. I find myself taking the blessings I have been given in this time of my life for granted.
I recently viewed a picture frozen in time. It was of an attic room with no air conditioning, a single bed, a suit case, a sewing machine,and a large assortment of toys. As I looked at that picture, I remembered sustaining life with bologna sandwiches, because that was all I could afford. I shared the room with my hosting families children and several sewing projects when I was at work. Flashes of early mornings tossing newspapers out of the back of our 2 door Sprint, to make a few sure we had enough cash flow to pay for room and board.
As I turned the page, I saw images of a small wooden card table and two folding chairs. That was the sum total of furniture gracing the floors of our apartment at the time. My cheeks flushed with embarrassment as I remember the first time our home teachers visited and we all had to sit Indian style on the living room floor, because we didn't have anywhere else to offer them.
Let me add that we were very grateful to have jobs that required uniforms at the time. Though it was plain, boring, and borderline ugly, OK, it was ugly, we knew that had something to wear.
As the week progress, I read an article about a group of people who were affectionately referred to as "Trash Miners". To support their families, these people spent their day at the local dump, panning for gold, silver, and other pieces of scrap metal that might be dislodged from the massive towers of trash by an over flowing river. The article talked of how they would wade chest high into a rapid flowing river with shovels and nets to see what they could dig up from the bottom of the river bed or catch in the fast flowing current. Many were please to find enough scraps each day to make the equivalent of $20, which is more than they could make anywhere else.
As I read this article, images of small cinder block shacks that housed a family of 5 or 6. I could feel the beads of sweat forming as I remembered the vivid heat that radiated down from the corrugated tin roof and was then trapped in the windowless, one room structure. My heart ached, as I remember sharing the table with this family as they gave me the best of what they had and were happy to nibble on what was left when I declared myself full. I smiled, as I remember being caught off guard one day by two small urchins who emerged from a 20 gallon barrel set on the corner of the house to catch rain water. They were taking a bath in families main supply of water.
Strange to my existence today, I don't remember concern of what matched, what was stylish, what the neighbors or peers had. There were no requests for seconds, thirds, or bed time snacks. They were happy to live on what they had and hope that there would be enough for tomorrow. The thrill and excitement to share a table with strangers who might leave a trinket, chocolate or even entertain the entire block one room structures with a slide show and cassette tape was enough to keep them going for days.
I know it is hard to imagine, but it is reality for many. Funny how we think of these things in November, a month of gratitude. Then go into December, a month known for over spending on things of greed and pride. Remember, Gratitude turns what we have into enough!
I recently viewed a picture frozen in time. It was of an attic room with no air conditioning, a single bed, a suit case, a sewing machine,and a large assortment of toys. As I looked at that picture, I remembered sustaining life with bologna sandwiches, because that was all I could afford. I shared the room with my hosting families children and several sewing projects when I was at work. Flashes of early mornings tossing newspapers out of the back of our 2 door Sprint, to make a few sure we had enough cash flow to pay for room and board.
As I turned the page, I saw images of a small wooden card table and two folding chairs. That was the sum total of furniture gracing the floors of our apartment at the time. My cheeks flushed with embarrassment as I remember the first time our home teachers visited and we all had to sit Indian style on the living room floor, because we didn't have anywhere else to offer them.
Let me add that we were very grateful to have jobs that required uniforms at the time. Though it was plain, boring, and borderline ugly, OK, it was ugly, we knew that had something to wear.
As the week progress, I read an article about a group of people who were affectionately referred to as "Trash Miners". To support their families, these people spent their day at the local dump, panning for gold, silver, and other pieces of scrap metal that might be dislodged from the massive towers of trash by an over flowing river. The article talked of how they would wade chest high into a rapid flowing river with shovels and nets to see what they could dig up from the bottom of the river bed or catch in the fast flowing current. Many were please to find enough scraps each day to make the equivalent of $20, which is more than they could make anywhere else.
As I read this article, images of small cinder block shacks that housed a family of 5 or 6. I could feel the beads of sweat forming as I remembered the vivid heat that radiated down from the corrugated tin roof and was then trapped in the windowless, one room structure. My heart ached, as I remember sharing the table with this family as they gave me the best of what they had and were happy to nibble on what was left when I declared myself full. I smiled, as I remember being caught off guard one day by two small urchins who emerged from a 20 gallon barrel set on the corner of the house to catch rain water. They were taking a bath in families main supply of water.
Strange to my existence today, I don't remember concern of what matched, what was stylish, what the neighbors or peers had. There were no requests for seconds, thirds, or bed time snacks. They were happy to live on what they had and hope that there would be enough for tomorrow. The thrill and excitement to share a table with strangers who might leave a trinket, chocolate or even entertain the entire block one room structures with a slide show and cassette tape was enough to keep them going for days.
I know it is hard to imagine, but it is reality for many. Funny how we think of these things in November, a month of gratitude. Then go into December, a month known for over spending on things of greed and pride. Remember, Gratitude turns what we have into enough!
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