I once saw a man along side the road. All he had was a bag and a little torn coat. He held his thumb up and looked as if he was out of luck. He looked weak. He had no money. He looked cold and very hungry. He was all alone, waiting for a ride home. Wherever that may be be, a park side bench or underneath a tree? My mom tells me, he's just not as lucky. To have the blessing of a roof over his head or the comforting of a nice warm bed, a satisfying meal, or a frig when he pleased because he's just not as lucky as me. This leads me to understand how luck doesn't come easy but even with life of luck isn't always breezy. So count you blessings and don't forget it's not how much luck you have, it's what you do with it.