Store your treasures

Yesterday, my beautiful $400 32 inch flat panel TV was destroyed.  I came home to find the screen smashed to bits and I suspect our 2 little kittens used the TV as a jungle gym.  In their fervor, it was knocked to the floor and into its current state of disrepair.     It was quite a blow which more or less perfectly summarized the kind of week/month/year that I am having.  I tried not to be too frustrated about it.  I told myself, I can’t take this TV with me to heaven.  I told myself “do not store your treasure where moth and rust and kittens destroy.”  Despite my mini pep talks, I was still a bit devastated as I resorted to watching the 4th episode of Band of Brothers on my seemingly inadequate and small 13 inch computer screen. 
 

Today, one of my staff invited me to his home for lunch.  We walked for 30 minutes from one side of town to the next, past the local markets, past the boreholes and past the local bars.  I stood out like a sore thumb in this part of town.  He welcomed me in his home and offered a small block of wood for me to sit on because he didn’t have any chairs.  We ate meat and spaghetti and avocados- clearly a special meal.  I finally met his 3 year old daughter, Destiny, who was born premature and with deformities because her mother was wrongly given malaria treatment while 7 months pregnant which caused the premature labor.  Destiny can’t walk so she just crawls as her legs and spine are deformed.  Despite her condition, she is a beautiful, active and funny child who loves meat and called me uncle.  She has serious muscle definition and could probably beat me in an arm wrestling match, even if she’s 3.  In spite of the hardships, my host still talks with hope.  He plans for the future and carefully saves his small salary to finish sending his wife to school and he hopes one day to be able to send Destiny to a special rehabilitation hospital where she may be able to be taught to walk one day.  He’s not beaten down by his circumstances and not moping or downtrodden. 
 

I sat on my little wood block, sweating buckets because of the iron sheet roof which turned the room into a furnace, and I thought, who the heck cares that my TV is broken.  My TV cost nearly 2 month’s salary for this friend and coworker.  His daughter was born without the ability to walk because someone carelessly prescribed the wrong medication.  His house has been broken into several times, by his own neighbor and he’s lost plates and mattresses and cooking materials.  His father is a drunk.  Why on earth am I moping about a broken television which I stare at like a zombie? 
 

Reality check.  I’ve been given much and I need to appreciate and be grateful for what I have.  Rest in peace Telefunken TV, it was nice having you around, but there are bigger problems in this world.