Last Saturday on a survey, my friend and I were made to count our blessings, and when we did, I realized how truly grateful I ought to have been. What seemed to be hardships and struggles exclusive to only me were, in reality, commonplace.
The people we met on this survey welcomed us with a kind face and, a smile on their face, and although they didn't have much to offer, they were willing to assist two strangers standing at their doorsteps.
But when the conversation drew to an end, and the eyes roamed the surrounding, one took in the signs: of son's living miles away from ailing parents, of children deprived of the exposures to the opportunities a city would offer, of the possible misfortune that might befall a certain woman depended on her parents for the simplest of the task, of the roads that are almost non-existence, of the static life.
Seeing it all, though our hearts were filled with sympathy, we couldn't help but feel ashamed for complaining about our petty misfortunes.
What, then, did we learn through this experience? To be grateful for what we have. To know that sorrows in this world are abundant and if in any way we can erase
them, we should at least try.
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