To have a passion, something burning deep down inside making your soul, simply festering until its releases. How longing for such a release pains the heart. Such a longing blinds shallow desires and latches selfish needs. My passion is for the people of suffering, who are the people filled with such a pure unadulterated hope and faith. Faith that could with hold anything. These are my brothers and sisters abandoned by the boundaries of everyday life.

When all is placid, close your eyes and see the filth ridden hands of the street children. The faces of those who are slowly decaying while they complete daily route, as if expecting the fate that shall soon come. Above all, in the darkness of your eyelids see yourself living among these people and giving all that you have to them. The ones who had nothing, yet everything, those who aren’t confined by the walls of a material world.

Benjamin Franklin once said “Three good meals a day is bad living.” Such an underlining statement is hidden within these words. What its saying is those of us who have the privilege of being privileged have become entirely too comfortable. Comfortable with daily schedule and comfortable with being defined by your social statues. Just taking in your three meals everyday and thinking nothing of it including satisfaction believing that it should be automatically granted to them. Most of us can’t even imagine the decaying faces and filthy hands let alone being able to entertain the thought of giving up something for someone else.

“The average American consumes the same amount of food as five hundred Africans.” Honest words who have penetrated my heart from the moment I herd them. Yet as most privileged people we stay cocooned in a surreal world that tells us to follow the American dream of suburbia. Boxed in by white picket fences while someone working for a lot less then minimum wage is dehydrating over your manicured lawn. This is the lie were taught is happiness; negligence to the world around us. We are built to break the miss consumptions of the “norms” of comfort and global ostracize. My Encouragement lies in a simple sentence of “give up one of your meals.”