I sit here annoyed.
The Houston heat gets on my nerves.
My lukewarm coffee pisses me off.
My little sister’s attitude drives me up the wall.
I find myself feeling entitled to comfort in every aspect of my life.
I easily become so narrow-minded that I forget about the rest of the world.
So, I sit here staring at my cup of lukewarm coffee and seemingly lukewarm heart…
and I reminisced.
I flashback to the street kids of India.
They were once innocent kids in distant villages.
Living with their parents and siblings… doing as kids do.
A seemingly legit man or woman came into town promising a job in the city.
Eager children flock after them… planning to send the money back to their poor families.
As soon as they get out of the village, they are immediately drugged up and threatened.
This happens over and over again.
After getting to the city, everything they own is stripped from them and they are given torn dirty clothing.
They are then starved and beaten.
Some are taken aside and hot coals are forced upon their eyes… blinding them instantly.
Some are beaten to the point of broken bones… then stuck into makeshift wheelchairs
and sent out to street corners with hands wide open and identities stolen.
Those that are blind or crippled are at an advantage…
they are given more money because people feel more sorry for them.
But, the children don’t get to keep the money.
The pimps watching from the rooftops or through the store fronts receive all the money.
These children are in a lifelong cycle of hopelessness.
I am reminded that have no reason to complain of the Houston heat or my lukewarm coffee.
I then get a vivid picture of the women of Thailand
Finding their identity in the promiscuity of prostitution.
I remember seeing women on bars looking like mere puppets…
Dancing around day and night with ghostly white faces and plastered on smiles.
Defeat, hopelessness and depression masked with thick makeup, skimpy clothing and inviting eyes.
Men from all over the world (some sneakily taking off their wedding rings) point to the woman of their choice,
leaving enough Thai Baht on the bar to equal a couple American dollars…
and grabbing their purchase by the hand and whisking her away
to a hotel room full of lies, lust and empty promises.
And for those girls that weren’t fortunate enough to seduce a passerby…
they take the blow physically.
I am reminded that I have no reason to complain of the Houston heat or my lukewarm coffee.
A sick feeling took over me as I thought about the witchdoctors in Uganda.
Sneaking into villages and kidnapping children to use as a sacrifice to false gods.
Mostly infants because they won’t cause much of a ruckus.
Cutting off limbs, genitals and even heads…
all in the name of prosperity and money.
A body was found of one little boy who’s heart was cut out.
Another little girl who’s tongue was cut off and her blood was drained out.
Story after story of sick ways these babies were murdered.
There are hundreds of stories of children who just vanished, never to be found again.
Those that are found alive have life long disabilities.
Mentally challenged.
Distorted genitals.
Traumatized.
The witchdoctors believe that if they sprinkle the pure blood of a child on their homes or businesses, they will prosper.
Babies are killed in vain for the hope of money.
I am reminded that I have no reason to complain of the Houston heat or my lukewarm coffee.
I am humbled.
And reminded that I live a beautiful life.
My lukewarm coffee now tastes like heaven on earth.
My little sisters attitude now gives me butterflies that she’s my little sister and she’s alive and well.
The summer heat is still annoying, but I am thankful that I can walk around outside and not fear for my life.
I am thankful that I have been given the life I live.