Wednesday, October 20, 2010
the most memorable thing I reblogged today:
"Hell is here, right here on earth. Tucked away in a place that can not be seen. We are blind to the true hands of Satan that gradually steal food, home and life of humans, human … just like us.
We complain every day about things that we can have another day.
They are expecting a little more than half of what you throw away."
this is so heart wrenching and sad. I want walk over and hand him a bowl of rice or a subway sandwich or put my arms around him or something! something to make this better. but truth is, even if I can give him food, what about the millions and millions of other starving people all around the world?!
I am fortunate.
admittedly, I complain excessively and I know that it can be really exasperating. I get on my own nerves too. but it's when I see a message like the one above that I realise all the things I complain about are so trivial and insignificant. when I open the fridge and if there is no ice cream, I start blaming my mother for not stocking up on it. meanwhile, people out there are dying of hunger and would die for food, any food at all. ice cream?! what is ice cream? they have never tasted bread, or rice, or water, much less ice cream.
a quarter of the world's population survives on several cents a day. I buy ridiculously overpriced starbucks coffee on a regular basis.
just an hour ago, I had been complaining about how tiring it is to have to do the dishes every night. if you guys have never hear me talking about this, my family has this practice - we would hold a mini meeting once every few months and discuss how the chores should be done. despite my repeated refusals, mine is officially now "wash the dishes and fold clothes every night." (it is really quite sucky la, but THIS IS THE LAST TIME I AM GOING TO COMPLAIN. HAHAHAHA)
next time I catch myself falling back into the complaining game, I am going to remind myself of this show I saw on channel 8 a few months ago. in one of the episodes, the crew filmed the life of this poor and abandoned old lady and her retarded grandson. the heartless daughter of this old lady/mother of the retarded son left the family as she did not want to be responsible for her son, just because he was different. even more unacceptable, she left the old lady because she became her burden. (what the hell right?!? people scrimped and saved just to send you for education and give you a proper home and this is how you repay her?! I was literally seething with rage when I watched the show but in any case, I have come to terms with it. some people are just heartless. this will NEVER be me.)
anyway, I remember the old lady showing the crew her cramped one-room flat. there was no furniture to speak of. instead, the place was filled with old newspapers, empty cans and other things the rest of us would deem as rubbish. then, at one corner, sat her grandson. I think I could never forget the tears in her eyes as she pointed to him and introduced him as the "most important thing in her life" while he scraped plain porridge out of a small bowl. he was being careful, taking his time to get every last grain onto the spoon. then, he fed the last mouthful to the old lady.
it totally broke my heart.
and I am sure the old lady is not the only unfortunate one out there. there are many others!
so...I have an 8am lesson every monday. I cannot buy new clothes because I am broke. I have to wash the dishes every night. I have to squeeze in the train tomorrow morning.(9am lesson die die have to squeeze la) but what are all these compared to what is happening to the old lady, the starving guy in the picture, the many others suffering around the world?
it is easy to forget about being grateful.
but when I forget, I will think about the tears rolling down the old lady's wrinkled cheek and the boy scraping every last bit of porridge. how can I complain? how can I not be grateful?
I am going to believe in having enough. :D I will be thankful and happy with what I have.
and this is my genius ling3 wu4 for today. :D
signing off, viting