Good Old Fashioned Gratitude

As we used pieces of crepe-like injeras to scoop up the Ethiopian chicken stew, doro wot, the chatter of the two boys kept us laughing and engaged. Our friends, M and K, explained the content of the scrumptious dishes and kept our water glasses full as Varun and I answered the questions of their two boys, J and S. After J asked my about the ages and names of all of my siblings, he looked at me and asked, “So, are you rich or poor?”

For a moment, I froze. J and S were adopted from an impoverished country as toddlers. For an instant, I wondered why J was asking me this. Was it natural 5 1/2 year old curiosity? Is he trying to understand riches and poverty? What does he understand poverty to be? What impact would my answer have?!

“Well”, I began, “I have Jesus. And I have a loving husband, Varun. And I have food for dinner and a place to live. So. I would say I’m very, very rich”.

J moved on and began grilling me about my “house” and got very distracted by the elevator needed to reach our apartment. But my words have been echoing through my brain since dinner. I am very, very blessed.



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