Yesterday my car got broken into and my bag was stolen.
It sucks, but really the only loss that aches is a card from my old roommate and all my passport stamps from study abroad (because yes, of course I happened to be carrying my passport).
Today, on my way to meet friends at an Astros game, a group of people gave me their extra ticket while I was standing in line to buy mine.
And while a $17 baseball ticket isn’t exactly equivalent to a $104 window replacement or the hassle of ordering a new passport, it made me stop and realize just how lucky I am.
I am lucky to be surrounded by people who love me, who text and call and write when I am sad. Lucky to have places to go to hang out on weeknights and to know that I always have Sunday dinner plans.
Lucky to have had the opportunity to live in and fall in love with four different cities already, leaving me with friends around the globe. Lucky to have had the chance to teach and fall in love with 400 amazing children. Lucky to have had my words published in so many different capacities.
Lucky to have time and money and health and skills and trust and bravery.
I’ve worked hard for it, and my life is far from perfect, but I am so lucky—sometimes I just need a little reminder.