unrelated to the post, but I'm always humbled by mountains (and great art). By Albert Bierstadt |
Their van arrived at 9:20am; I was thankful for the extra hour (we were given a window of "8 to 10"). My gratitude quickly turned to disbelief, however; two older people (in their fifties, I'd guess), were hobbling out of the vehicle and making their way towards our door. Their stooped posture, slow pace and awkward gaits suggested locomotion of any kind was a considerable undertaking. And my first thought was selfish. They sent these two to pack our home?! We'll be here all day! I circumspectly inquired if more would be arriving; the answer was courteous. "The two of us do this all the time, sir, no problem."
As I write, it's now been six hours. They work steadily, breaking only for a small lunch. They have trouble with stairs but work well and efficiently. They appear content with their lot, neither bemoaning their station nor begrudging me mine. My initial displeasure has changed to admiration. I wonder- what kind of lives have they led? How do they do this daily? Are they in pain? How much? And . . . how spoiled am I?
People deal with change differently. It's easy to focus on my current transitory state and be consumed with anxiety, fear, and stress. We're moving to a new country in less than two weeks. Will the kids adjust to the new environment? Will we? Will our stuff get damaged? How will we handle the hotel? I need to remember that so many people have a harder road than I. That this present- temporary- inconvenience is nothing compared to the daily hardship many endure. People right in my neighborhood, living peaceful and content lives despite long hours, physical strain, and lower wages. I need some perspective.