Blessed

I find myself in a high school middle school class. But this time instead of sitting among the students, I stand before them.  ‘Cause I’m not longer a student and living in Mexico {apparently} makes me qualified to speak on Latino living and the Spanish language. 

We arrive to the question section.  “I don’t know…” is my most common answer, because,  {as it became quite obvious very quickly}  I am no expert.  The questions cover my experiences, political issues, cultural differences, and of course food.  The teacher takes a turn asking a question, “Can you please explain to the students how blessed we are?!” 

Her question makes me think.  I consider jumping up onto a {judgmental} soap box of mine about the abundance of everything in our country and how unappreciative we are as a society.   But I knew that would not be a fair answer. 

“Your teacher asked me to explain how blessed we are here,” I began. “I appreciate the question greatly,”I continued looking at her, “but I do not think it is fair to say we are blessed.

“We measure blessing in terms of what we have, but in reality that has nothing to do with being blessed or not.  I know people who have nothing, but know that people are the most important thing they will ever come across in this world.   When you go to their house, they will give you the best, if not all, of what they have to eat, and rejoice to do so.  In having nothing, they know that things really mean nothing, and souls mean everything. 

“And I believe,” I continued, “that most of us will spend the rest of our lives learning that simple truth.   They are the blessed ones.”