I had a simple fish chowder last night, and it was filling and fine.
I thought of those throughout the world who have little or nothing to eat and where starvation is a constant worry. Too many count the grains of rice for the pot to feed a family and deal with the ache of hunger as the body eats itself in a wrenching dichotomy to stay alive.
My simple meal was to millions of souls around the world, a feast.
I went to the doctor the other day for a routine check-up. There too I thought of the ease with which I got an appointment and the pharmacy choices I could go to fill a prescription. There are so many millions in the world who have no access to even simple medical treatments let alone to modern medicines to cure or ease a pain.
To get the same medical expertise, most of the world would have to walk for days or suffer in place.
I have a nice home — good neighbors. I have heat, electricity, and freedom from fear. I know millions love their families as I do mine, but who have no permanent home without the hostile and real intrusion of terror and war.
With all these realizations, there comes a moment when I must ask the question, “Why me?” “Why do I have so much and so many have so little?”
I don’t know the full answer, and I suspect I never will until I get to the other side. I do know there are responsibilities that go with abundance.
Giving from substance.
Compassion and aid to those who suffer.
Tolerance of other’s beliefs.
Awareness of need.
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