Perspective

I recently found out that my health insurance is going up ten dollars a month.  Uuuuggggggh.  I groaned.  I griped.  I felt my stomach tighten slightly with stress, that I would have to re-shuffle my budget again.  All those ten dollar increases here and twenty dollar increases there add up.

That afternoon, I stopped by my neighbor’s house.  They recently had a death in their family, and I wanted to check in on them.  I had also heard they might be running low on food. 

They weren’t low on food.  They were out of food, other than some rice.  As a friend and I helped them fill out a food stamps application, it came out that between all five members of the household—counting loose change from pockets and crumpled dollar bills—they have just over $87 to their name.  Total.  No bank accounts, no assets.  Only one family member works, and he brings home less in a week than I sometimes make in a single day.  Their electricity is going to be cut off this week unless they find a way to pay their overdue bills. 

… Somehow, a ten dollar increase—and that on a service I’m blessed to have in the first place—doesn’t seem worth complaining about.