When I see my fridge filled with ice cream for a couple of days and children not touching it saying that they don’t like the flavor, I recall my childhood when I used to yearn for ice cream for months and sometimes even years before getting to taste even a small serving. We did not even try to ask because we knew the tight position they were in. Can they appreciate the longings of their parents?
When I see from my air-conditioned Corolla a crowded minibus passing by with people stooping and standing in sweltering heat and I recall myself (aged 18yrs) and my father (aged 64 years) standing there in a minibus 40 years ago, and suffering the heat, waiting for some passenger to vacate his seat, and then look at my children who have never suffered like that, and wonder whether they can appreciate the effort I had to make, the sacrifices I made for decades, to reach to a position where I could afford a car like this?
Work in Process