Yesterday I had lunch with a young adult who is walking through some difficult days. We talked, and I hope something I said might be of help. We shook hands and I opened the door into the August heat. At just that moment a blue convertible Ferrari drove by. It looked a bit better than the Saturn I got into.
Sometimes I whine to God about wanting something nicer or faster. But then I’m reminded that cars will rust, eventually that blue Ferrari will be in a junkyard, and my friend, the one with the problem, he’ll still be living.