This weekend I finished reading “A Thousand Splendid Suns” by Khaled Hosseini. It’s a tale of two women in Afghanistan, and like his first novel “The Kite Runner”, it’s a compelling story that will get its claws into your heart. I thoroughly enjoyed it, and I noticed that when I closed the book after reading the final page, my overwhelming feeling was one of gratitude.
You see, I was able to have an education. I have the choice of who I marry (or not). I was not sent away to live with a stranger 3 times my age at the age of 15. I do not live in fear of a beating daily. My home is not under threat of rocket launchers, bullets, or people who will punish me for watching tv. I don’t have to wear clothing that I can’t see through, and will trip over (unless I choose to).
I am not punished for not having children. No one considers me their possession. No one tells me what to do. I am not considered a second class citizen just because I have a womb. I could go on and on and on. And then this morning I was listening to an old song from the 70’s “Streets of London” by Ralph McTell. I’ll just give you a little excerpt from the lyrics:
In the all night cafe
At a quarter past eleven,
Same old man is sitting there on his own
Looking at the world
Over the rim of his tea-cup,
Each tea last an hour
Then he wanders home aloneSo how can you tell me you’re lonely,
And say for you that the sun don’t shine?
I am seriously grateful for these two very poignant reminders that I have everything to be thankful for. Ok, I might not have the £millions I desire, or a fit bloke, or daily sunshine, or a maserati. But I do have freedom, friendship, opportunity, and today even sunshine. I am seriously blessed. Are you?
Love
Donna.x