I want to enjoy my soft bed at night with a clear conscience, so I give and give. I make myself think of the poor woman sleeping on her hard floor. I punish myself with scenes of others' hardships, so that after a bit of realizing "how good I have it", I can roll over and fall peacefully into sleep. Without uneasy consciences, how would charities survive?
My friend, Minara
"You're pregnant." Startled, I slid my hand from her stomach, out from under her sari where she had placed it, and really looked at her for the first time. I didn't know about liver disease and swollen bellies.