Now on http://www.bluechowder.com/:
I knew a boy who grew up engulfed in a life of wealth. His elementary schooling cost more than my college degree. His parents had multiple homes in multiple states. He received a luxury car on his 16th birthday. Every time he went out with friends, he was tossed a handful of $100 bills. He was promised ownership of his father’s lucrative business upon a satisfactory completion of college.
I knew another boy who grew up in a one bedroom apartment with three siblings and no father. He would alternate his two pieces of clothing on a weekly basis. He refused to come to my birthday party because he couldn’t afford a gift. He invited me to his and it consisted of me, him, his mom, and a small cake; siblings running rampant in the background. He had no idea what his future would hold and would be the first in his family to finish high school should he not give up.
It’s interesting to look back on the two of them. I remember my rich friend often complaining about a stupid vacation he had to go on, how annoying it was that his car needed a repair, how so-and-so messed with his stuff, or how bored he was with life in general. He struggled through school and hated his teachers. “What an extravagant and silly life”, I would think upon leaving his place.
I knew another boy who grew up in a one bedroom apartment with three siblings and no father. He would alternate his two pieces of clothing on a weekly basis. He refused to come to my birthday party because he couldn’t afford a gift. He invited me to his and it consisted of me, him, his mom, and a small cake; siblings running rampant in the background. He had no idea what his future would hold and would be the first in his family to finish high school should he not give up.
It’s interesting to look back on the two of them. I remember my rich friend often complaining about a stupid vacation he had to go on, how annoying it was that his car needed a repair, how so-and-so messed with his stuff, or how bored he was with life in general. He struggled through school and hated his teachers. “What an extravagant and silly life”, I would think upon leaving his place.
On the other hand my poor, fatherless friend would often sit with wide eyes and tell me of how he was going to be an astronaut, the president, or a doctor. He would talk of how proud he wanted to make his mom. He often voiced his gratitude of having the city bus route go near his place, and didn’t seem to mind telling people his family was carless. He devoted himself to his studies and went on to outscore me in college placement tests. He was shy and happy; quietly confident with the self he was creating. I would leave our time together thinking, “How can a guy with so little be so excited about so much?”
I have lost contact with those friends over the years. I am almost positive of what our reunions would look like. Richie Rich would be full of money, full of complaint, and full of criticisms toward others. Poverty Pete would be excited to tell of his success, express gratitude for our old friendship, and probably blow me away with the difference he is making in the world.
Wherever you find yourself having come from in life, take a moment to embrace not just why you are thankful, but uncover those things you have forgotten to be thankful for. While you’re at it, do a heart check and see why people would or wouldn’t be grateful for you.
HAPPY THANKSGIVING!
I have lost contact with those friends over the years. I am almost positive of what our reunions would look like. Richie Rich would be full of money, full of complaint, and full of criticisms toward others. Poverty Pete would be excited to tell of his success, express gratitude for our old friendship, and probably blow me away with the difference he is making in the world.
Wherever you find yourself having come from in life, take a moment to embrace not just why you are thankful, but uncover those things you have forgotten to be thankful for. While you’re at it, do a heart check and see why people would or wouldn’t be grateful for you.
HAPPY THANKSGIVING!
I am curious to hear from you guys.
Months had passed and I remember being on the phone with Ali as she paced back and forth outside of the planned parenthood building weeping, knowing that Lorean lay on the operating table awaiting the abortion procedure. In a desperate plea, Sandy and I agreed to adopt the child if it was permitted to live. When that was denied, we again resorted to our only true hope; crying out to God. I was hundreds of miles away, driving to a track meet. Sandy was stuck at work. Ali was kicked out of the facility, crying on the street as a security guard stood post. Lorean lie perplexed and tormented, awaiting the doctor.
Say hello to little Lucas!
