Wealth and perspective.

[avidbystander]

I turn on a faucet and water pours out. We rinse produce and bathe with it. We could drink it, but we prefer the taste and filtration of a store-bought variety. I turn a knob and a flame is lit. I may have to fold my laundry, but machines wash and dry it for me. There's a box in the kitchen where food stays cold until it's consumed, or I throw it out. I don't burn the trash our family generates; someone takes it away. There's more than one room in the house; more than one bed; more than one set of clothes; pair of shoes; sandals; heels. There's no imminent threat of violence when I venture out, with my children. They sleep in their beds; they don't walk to the center of town to avoid kidnapping by night. They are not wards of the state. As a woman I may work or study as I chose; I may marry whom I chose. If things don't work out, I may leave and not be shunned by society. My family may profess faith without risk of imprisonment or being dispossessed.

I feel burdened by the advantages I have to be more than content merely (no small feat, with so many applications, but speaking specifically to the desire for what I feel I lack)-- but to do something?