Times are tough

Every time I turn the news on I am bombarded with our current economic situation in the United States. It is reality. According to the International Herald Tribune 2.6 million Americans have lost their jobs. While lots of American’s are losing their jobs and struggling to get by, we have to be thankful that there is hope. There are other realities we as Americans tend to forget about. I came across an email I sent home to my family when I was in India last Spring.

That night we took a train back to our hotel in Delhi. We stepped off our coach bus that had ushered us around the small, dull colored cars and rocky roads. It smelled thick of odor from the streets, people, and floods of trash. Standing amidst the crowd our white faces and labeled backpacks clearly stood out among the crowd of disheveled people. A man to my left began asking for money, I nodded my head and turned the other way before noticing his feet that were like balloons, full and round. He had elephantitis. I had never seen anything like it. His feet were four times the normal size and it looked painful. I could not bear to watch. We continued weaving through the people cluttering the train station unaware of our surroundings. I noticed a young boy about six years old carrying a baby boy, like a rag doll. He had no pants, dangling from the arms of his brother. A fellow traveler gave the young boy an orange. He plopped the baby next to him sitting crossed legged on the dirty, concrete floor. He peeled the orange half for him, half for his brother. We continued waiting for our train while twelve year old boys slid around dragging their skinny, crippled, legs on the dirty ground begging for food. We noticed later they had been pouring White-Out onto hankies then pressing the toxins up to their face. I could not blame them or judge them for I had no clue what kind of life they are living. I thought this short high must be the most pleasurable couple of moments for them. Another young boy holding a piece of bread held the bread out for the crippled boys who were without strength to get their own food. They made their way toward the bread dragging their legs until the boy backed away laughing and threw the food onto the train tracks. The whole time I was wondering where are their parents? How could they do this to their children?

I will never forget these moments they remind me how bad life can be and how lucky I am. I remember feeling so helpless. I was standing in the middle a culture so different from America. I could not help them. It was not my culture or my pain. However, the horrified look of my face remained until I woke up the next morning, still helpless.
These times of trouble present moments for people to be thankful for what they do have, their family, friends, health, and love. We have to believe there is hope and continue appreciating the things we do have. Many Americans are still blessed in so many ways!