Crusader Tumbles: A Street-Side Sermon on Gratitude

“Jesus Dude!”
The guy in red sidestepped to the left.

But The Crusader hadn’t lunged at him; he fell to the right, into the industrial-strength foliage growing on the curb. His makeshift cross suffered no damage. I should have borrowed that artifact to cleanse myself from the residual demons lurking around the office area.

A few meters away, I stopped and checked my bag one more time, ensuring my train card was in there, along with my tablet, phone, and laptop charger. Nothing in my bag was edible, nothing that could be offered to the pilgrim. It’s the season to be sharing.

I make it a conscious habit to compare myself with others. Screw clichés and trite platitudes. Blah blah blah… “Comparison is the thief of joy.” I didn’t experience joy when I fired off a quick snapshot for my collection titled Human Fragments.

Compare down, more often than up. If you can. Gratitude resides not in the comparison, but in the knowledge that you can still catch that train.