Some blessings are loud. A new job. A celebration. A dream come true.
And then there are the quiet ones—the ones that don’t announce themselves because they’ve always just been there. Like the fact that I’ve never had to listen for the whistling of bombs overhead. Or ration my meals because there simply wasn’t enough. Or wonder where my family disappeared to during the night.
I have lived my entire life without the shadow of war on my doorstep. I’ve never known true hunger. My biggest battles are internal. My struggles are real, but they are wrapped in the safety of a society that, for all its flaws, offers peace.
Sometimes, I catch myself feeling frustrated about the little things—traffic, deadlines, someone eating my labelled leftovers, or where I left my phone. And then I remember: millions of people on this planet are fighting to survive in conditions I can barely imagine. Their worries are not about inboxes or unread messages but about clean water, shelter, and staying alive another day.
And yet, gratitude isn’t about guilt. It’s about clarity. It’s about recognizing the extraordinary in the ordinary. So today, I pause to thank whatever fortune, history, or unseen hands have kept me safe from the worst of human suffering.
I don’t take it for granted. Not anymore.
