Thursday, November 23, 2017

Thanksgiving, and Winning the World's Lottery...

Unless you've just arrived here from Guadalajara and have yet to unpack your duffel and prepare for your life of relative ease here in beautiful downtown America, you know that you, meaning you and me, have already hit the World's Lottery.

That means that you and me were either among the 5% of the Earth's population that were born in the United States of America, or wisely chose to come here, legally or otherwise.  The other 95% were consigned, as an accident of birth, to be relegated to a life in many cases devoid of simple human needs.  Needs like enough to eat, or enough clean water to drink, or a safe, secure place to lay your head down each night.  Think of it:  You could have been born in North Korea, or Cuba, or communist China, or Zimbabwe, for God's sake!

So, while much of the rest of the world is scrambling for a crust of bread to placate its gnawing, debilitating hunger, you and I are arguing about tax rates, and sexual harassment, and not-so-nice possible, but so far unproven meddling by Russia in our election process.

Those complaints sort of pale in importance, doncha' think? Just yesterday NoKo soldiers assassinated one of their own at the DMZ.  He was caught trying to defect, and they tried, unsuccessfully, to kill him for doing so.  Remember, the wall there in the Korean Peninsula, and the one famously torn down a couple of decades ago in East Berlin, were there to keep their citizenry in, not the Visigoths (enemy) out. 

I suggest that we all just take a step back, and a deep breath, and come to realize that we are all God's children, that we all cherish freedom and hope and love and a full tummy, and that not so very long into the future we'll all be pushing up daisies and none of this will matter at all.  And then give the very next carbon-based life form you bump into a nice, warm hug.  He (or she) deserves it.  And you'll feel better for having given it.*

So, take a moment during your feast today and lift your eyes skyward, and whisper a silent prayer of thanks to God for having graced you at the moment of your birth with a starting spot at the front of the pack...

*  Be careful.  Hug too firmly or for too long, and you'll be charged with groping...

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