this morning, i woke to the sound of my phone alarm ringing under my pillow. i pushed the snooze. twice. maybe three times. so i could stay in my warm bed, snuggled under my pretty purple and pink comforter. the one that matches my salmon colored walls. my fan was purring in the corner, to provide the perfect white noise necessary for slumber. the heater was blowing gently from the ceiling vent. i tucked my fluffy pillow back under my head as i contemplated getting out from my cacoon.
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a world away, she raised herself from her bed of straw on the dirt covered floor as the noise of the dog fight outside her pane-less window awoke her. wiping sleep from her eyes, she squinted at the moon still high in the sky. she could tell by it’s placement that it was time to get up. time to roll up her mat. and face the day. she wrapped the thin blanket that covered her more closely around her shoulders and thought about the task ahead.
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i threw back the covers and slipped on my house shoes as i made my way to the bathroom. turning on the shower, hot water flowed instantly from the pipes. i stood for a moment on the thick bathroom rugs and looked at myself in the mirror. the effects of sleep were written on my face. but my complexion was still one of youth.
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as the moon began to sink and the sun began to rise, she tied a rag around her hair. she had done the best to wash it the night before, dunking it in rain water and running a comb through the tresses. as she splashed that same water on her face this morning, she looked at herself in the reflection of a broken mirror. she looked old. older than her 30 years. the effects of a hard life etched in the lines. she sighed as she tied on her apron, ready for work.
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i made my way into the kitchen, habitually filling my coffee pot and heating up oatmeal. i wished i had something else. but since i hadn’t gone to the store, my cabinets were empty. well, not empty. but bare of what i wanted. while in the kitchen, i considered packing myself a lunch for work. but decided to buy out instead. it seemed more convenient. and more inviting than the plain turkey and mayo sandwich that was my alternative.
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she looked around her small house. one room, really. with her bed already folded neatly in the corner. and her meager belongings stashed on shelves. she pulled out the left over rice from last night’s meal and set it aside. she would save that. for someone more important. she wished she had milk. or eggs. something with protein. and nutrients. she fixed herself a small square of bread and a cup of tea.
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leaving for work, i stopped by the gas station for a coffee. made fancy style. bundled up inside my coat, gloves, and scarf, i faced the wind on the walk inside my building. my coworkers greeted me warmly. asked about my night before. and my day ahead. my students respected me and listened to my instructions. i complained because i was too busy. too wanted. had too many responsibilities. felt i should be compensated more for my talents.
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she wrapped her scarf tightly around her slim shoulders as she headed out her door. being quite not to wake the others in her house. her mother. her son. she is a widow. and fatherless. her young child and elderly mother, the recepients of last night’s rice, are dependent upon her to provide. for everything. she slowly makes her way to the field where she will spend the day in the sun. manual labor. hard labor. and come home with a dollar more to her name.
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i’m an american. a citizen. i have rights. and priviledges. my voice is heard. and my opinion matters. peoples around the world want to be like me. want to have what i have. though i am a woman, i am considered equal. unless something happens that i don’t like and i’m asked to submit. then i feel taken advantage of. when in reality, i’ve only been placed in my biblical role.
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she is a dalit. a member of a group of people living in india. calcutta. she is considered “unclean”. not fit for any profession but the most degrading. the most bitter. the most discriminating. the cast of her shadow turns people away. she has no way of changing her situation. no one to turn to for help.
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as my day ends, i come again to a nice, warm home. decorated in the manner of my liking. i think about my blessings. i think about my needs. i wish for a more reliable car. a cuter wardrobe. more friends. always more money.
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with the moon high in the sky, she comes home to her mother. her orphaned son. her continued responsibilities. she thinks about her blessings. she thinks about her needs. protection. shelter. food. hope.
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where are you in this tale? do you have the wants and the needs of your heart? could you give to someone who doesn’t?
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gospel for asia offers an opportunity to change the lives of the people of india with your gifts this season. something tangle. something useful. something needed. a chicken – for eggs, for livelihood. a goat – for milk, for income. a sewing machine. a rickshaw. clean water.
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will you consider shopping from their christmas catalog this year? and change her life. offer her hope. forever.

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