Be careful what you ask for, you might get it

One of life's little lessons.
I live in a very nice community, my husband likes to (half) joke that we are the slums of this particular town in our little cramped condo. I often go to the park or library and get the feeling that I do not belong there with my kids, in their hand-me-down clothes. A friend once told me she felt like she needed to be dusted off in similar situations, entering the giant houses of my town, but coming from a bungalow on the South side. I thought she was silly, but I run that conversation over in my head daily lately. I know how she felt.

But just as I start feeling bad for myself, I remember a book that I read. It was a biography of Dorothy Day, upon reading it, I begged God to give me poverty so I could be as simple as Mary, and because I knew how petty and wasteful I could be. He has given me so much, I am not even close to poverty, but simplicity, yes. I asked to always remember those who had less, yet I whine and feel bad for myself. God did not give me true poverty, but he gave me what was good for me.