Do you ever wish people could just see and experience something so that they could understand what you really mean?
I had one of those moments this week.
I was out in a village watching a group of women work with a Micro-Credit lender. It wasn't the group that caught my attention, it was the man sitting in the chair behind them.
He was about the age of my father, but that wasn't what stood out to me.
It was his breathing.
In and out it went just like you and me. Except, it wasn't just like you and me.
Every time he breathed in I could see his ribs as clear as day through his pectoral muscles. I could count all of them.
I've seen tons of skinny and malnourished people here in Bangladesh but I hope I never forget that man.
He made it real for me.
My wish for you is that you could see something like this.
Not because these things are good, but rather because these are the things worth understanding about our world.
2 comments:
yes & amen.
Last month I was thinking about this reality and wondering if I'm resilient enough to persevere once I'm far removed from it back home in North America. Sometimes caught up in report-writing words like malnutrition and food security can become abstracts to me, though here it doesn't take more than a glimpse to wake up. But back home that glimpse won't be there. Once I'm living the privileged life again will I be able to remember what reality is? Or will the lessons I've learned here be drowned by the, from this perspective trivial, cares and worries of modern American life?
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