A lady where I work tells me that her grown kids like to refer to her husband as "grump-pa." I guess it's because he's not always in the best of moods. Reminds me of me lately. Perhaps it's because I've been spending a lot of time looking back at where I've been and a lot of the dumb decisions I've made. You know, if you're not careful you can spend a lot of time focusing on images in your mental rearview mirror, focusing on all those moments when you said or did things you now regret. Easy to stay discouraged and angry at yourself that way. You can lose hope that things will ever get better.
In the midst of this looking backward a memory crossed my mind today. I remembered a business trip I took to Guadalajara, Mexico, several years ago. I had the afternoon free -- no meetings until the following day -- so I did what I usually do in a place I've never been before: I went walking. I visited the main cathedral, walked around the central plaza, and then I found myself in a very busy marketplace surrounded by a huge crowd of people.
Suddenly I saw an object that looked very much out of place: a child's red wagon with wooden panels on all sides. Nobody was pulling it. It was just sitting there in the midst of all these people rushing around. As I got up close to it I was stunned at what I saw. Looking up at me from inside the wagon was a boy -- without arms or legs. He appeared to be in his early teens. On his chest was a portable tape player, and he was listening to music with headphones. Next to him in the wagon was a box where people could drop money. I couldn't tell if there was someone there watching out for him. There had to be, for it seemed too inhumane to simply drop someone off in that condition and then retrieve him hours later.
And as I see the image of that boy I feel a voice whispering to me: "Stop feeling sorry for yourself."
count your blessings.
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