Every time my path crosses someone who really has it tough -- illness in the family, poverty, pressures of unemployment or underemployment, etc. I stop and consider how very lucky I have been. How do some people survive, I wonder? How do they get through the days of strife and uncertainty?
Of course I have those days too, but on such a smaller scale that I think just doesn't matter somehow. I wonder at the way life works itself out. I consider my own blessings and wish somehow that I could just give them all away, to those in need.
That is empathy of course, and even altruism -- but it is not the way society works for those who are not blessed. Life is fatalistic; life is fickle.
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