There but for the Grace of God

I would like to share a couple of things with you which I chanced upon today, both of which moved me to free-flowing tears for very similar reasons.

The first was an email from Samaritans Purse about Operation Christmas Child, for which I have made up two shoeboxes of gifts/other items every year.  I stopped to read the story of some of the children who receive these shoeboxes and felt quite overwhelmed by the thought that for some kids, this was the only gift they would receive at Christmas.  For some kids, living in poverty, this represents the only toys they will have throughout their entire childhood.  And the fact that someone somewhere has bothered to put some things into a box for them seems to really be a thing of wonder for them.  Never again will I moan about the financial cost of putting these boxes together, I will be glad to do it.  In fact, I intend to do four boxes next Christmas instead of the normal two, and I will fund the cost somehow. 

The second thing was disturbing, and squeezed at my heart. 

This link was on a blog, and once I read it, and got a little concept and persepective on this lady's life, I felt lost for words.  Then this link completes a heartbreaking tale.  Don't read it unless you are prepared to cry.  I post it because I personally want the reminder on my blog that I am living the dream.  It wouldn't hurt me once in a while to stop and fucking appreciate it.