It is such a luxury at night to crawl into my snug, soft bed, sleepy and tired, and to burrow under my warm quilt. I remind myself to be thankful for such a simple, but rejuvanative pleasure.

Though delving too far into that privilege can be the harbinger of a very bad nights sleep.

Somewhere, even in my bitter cold CNY, someone is trying to sleep in their car. Perhaps also trying to keep their child safe and warm. Someone who has to get up and go to work in the morning and get their child off to school. 

One winter as I went home to my cozy RV, a fellow worker went home to his tent. He could have afforded at least a room, but chose instead to hide his predicament and keep up his child support payments, so as not to lose visitation rights. At least for him, a kind soul had allowed him to tent inside their barn affording some more protection.

Somewhere in the Sudan or Somalia a starving woman is comforting her emaciated child from wind and sand and attack, in the hopes of reaching the relative security of a refugee camp.

Somewhere, perhaps just down the street, someone is huddled in their bed, hoping to be spared violence for the night.

There is much to be thankful for in the simple things…..

a soft pillow, clean sheets, a warm blanket, peace and quiet.