How many true friends do you have? Do you feel like your life is meaningful or meaningless? Do you hide from people?  Have you lived a life of great adventures, travels, and have never gone hungry?  Should these make any difference, is it bad? Will you ever forget that it was never warm in the room you lived in and that you had to ask for food from strangers and neighbors? Are you considered grumpy, cheerful, sad, or just weird? Can you possibly follow your dreams or can you imagine getting out of the harsh environment you were assigned to by birth? 

Do you want to leave it all behind?

One day I will write a story, Poverty Was an Honor. I do not have to do much research since I grew up impoverished. Running around with friends as a child and getting just enough food to survive, I never even thought about what it meant to be poor. I didn’t cry about it or looked sad when four kids had to share one small entrée with a large batch of rice. Then, I became an adult and moved away, eventually merging into a higher standard of living. I was dutiful and dedicated most of my adult life in striving to reach the financial goal set by the financial planners. I made it to the marked dollar amount and was considered a success. But, I never reached the same amount of deep friendship in this setting. I miss the freedom of unannounced visits to a friend’s house. There is now a void of sharing – of having meals together, of teasing one another, of discovering the different ways to find work, of admitting that we would never be good enough to woo that wealthy individual crush of ours. I am now that wealthy individual and I see the friendly eyes gazing from the rundown houses in a neighborhood full of assorted characters. I used to have a friendly gaze.

*welcome to guest writers