This past Thursday I woke up in one of the worst moods. It was a super full moon and my mom always says full moons affect our sleep. Well, this one truly unleashed my insomnia. When I finally fell asleep, the next thing I knew it was time to get up and start my day. I woke up so exhausted that the only thing I want to do was sleep for 48 hours straight but we don’t get paid for sleeping so I had no option other than to get out of bed.

After waking up knowing my day was not off to the greatest start, my sister’s dog that I’m currently dog sitting decided it was time to be a total jerk. I struggled with her on our morning walk and was extremely annoyed that she was acting out. Then I get into the house and my sister’s bougie coffee machine wouldn’t work. Lack of sleep, a super full moon, general fatigue, and my body being decaffeinated made my mood go from bad to foul.

I leave the house and head to work annoyed and pissed off at the world. As Monica would sing, “It’s just one of them days, don’t take it personal.” Anyways, I get to work and decide to recap my horrible morning to my boss when we go to lunch together. While I’m talking about how awful my morning is, I’m also realizing how ridiculous I sound but I’m exhausted and just want to talk about how horrible my day is.

That’s when the Universe decided to humble my overly privileged ass.

We finish lunch and walk out into the restaurant parking lot. I look over and notice a middle-aged homeless man digging through a trash can in the alley. The man was digging through the garbage as if his life depended on it. I didn’t immediately say anything to my boss because I didn’t want the man to hear me. Once we got in my car I told my boss that seeing the man dig through the trash was bothering me and I didn’t know what to do to help. He immediately says, “Hey! I can give him my leftovers.” My boss had a ton of leftover fried rice and then I said, “I think I have $5 let me check and you can give it to him.” With a carry-out box and $5 in his hand, my boss walks over and hands the man the food and money.

While my boss is walking back to my car he doesn’t notice, but I see the man open the box and take a massive bite out of the food. This poor soul was legitimately starving to death. I felt awful. Here I am a few minutes prior complaining over how awful my day is because of a stupid coffee machine and my dog niece acting like a jerk. I felt like a horrible person. To make matters even worse, my boss says, “Tell me again about how you’re having a bad day.”

I started to reflect and think about how I was complaining over something so pointless and minimal. I also started to think that I was turning into the same people that I cannot stand.

When I first moved back to the U.S. one of the things that I noticed is how much people complain over stupid shit and how rude they are towards people. The first year I was back I was so highly annoyed by the number of times I saw someone mistreat someone simply because they weren’t getting their way. The U.S. is the land of the extremely overprivileged and the “you must do what I say because I say” group of people in the world. Entitled is the overstatement of the century. And here I am, becoming what I detest the most.

I had to check myself because I refuse to become ungrateful.

My day continued on and my mood changed for the better. I couldn’t believe how ridiculous I had behaved in the morning and I was grateful for life reminding me that, “Things could always be worse.” I started to think of the things that I’m grateful for in my head and remind myself just how fortunate I truly am. I thought that what happened that afternoon would be the most impactful event of my day.

Then life had other plans.

That evening I decided to stop by Walgreens and pick something up on my way home. While I’m searching for what I wanted to buy, I overhear a Walgreens employee say, “The machine is in English and I don’t speak your langue so I won’t be able to help you.”

My first instinct is to try to help. I speak 4 languages so I think to myself that maybe I speak this person’s language. I walk over and ask the lady, “Where are you from? Maybe I speak your language.” She tells me that she’s from Afghanistan.

I don’t speak Farsi but I still wanted to help her. I asked her what she is trying to do. In broken English, she explained to me that her daughter lives in Russia and she needs to send her money via Western Union. The Walgreens employee is standing there and she tells me that the Western Union machine doesn’t work after 9 p.m. and it was 9:01 p.m.

So I thought, ok. How can I help this woman? I told her I was going to write down the information in English on a piece of paper so that when she went to Walgreens the next day she can show them the information and they can help her send her daughter money.

Thank God for Google Translate because between that, her broken English, and my non-existent Farsi, we got it all written down.

She explains to me that she doesn’t have a car and she had walked to Walmart, Kroger, and now Walgreens to try and send her daughter money and wasn’t able to. I offer to drive her home so she doesn’t have to walk alone in the dark.

While driving her home I ask her how long she’s been in the U.S. and she tells me she has been here for 10 years and 4 months. She said she has no family and no friends here. She says to me that her whole family was killed in Afghanistan by terrorists who bombed her home. She lost her parents, siblings, husband and two year old daughter. The only reason why she is alive is because her and her other daughter were in the hospital together at the time of the bombing. When they returned home they couldn’t recognize any of their family members in the rubble of the bombing.

I’m driving and trying my hardest to hold back tears.

She also has kidney problems and if they get worst she will not be able to travel and she’s crying telling me she may never be able to see her daughter and grandchildren again in Russia if she has to go on dialysis.

My heart literally broke.

She is crying telling me her story and I’m just devastated for her. I told her I’m going to pray for her and she will see her daughter again. I just know it.

We get to her house and she tells me to come in and she will make me tea or give me juice and she keeps thanking me for helping her. I politely tell her not to worry about it and that she doesn’t need to thank me for anything.

She looks at me and says, “You are an angel from God.” (Clearly, she doesn’t know me.) And she asks to kiss my hand. I didn’t want her to feel like she needed to kiss my hand but I also understand cultural norms and I told her that if she felt like she needed to kiss my hand she could. She kisses my hand and says “thank you!”

I give her my name and phone number and tell her to call or message me on WhatsApp if she has any problems trying to send her daughter money and I will try to help her the best way that I can.

After I drop my new friend off, I drive home and think to myself, if that were my mom in another country where she wasn’t fluent in the language, I hope someone would help her.

I get home and start to process the conversation and the day that I’ve had. Then I think.

How fucking lucky am I?

I’ve not lost my entire family to a bombing. I am healthy. I have food to eat. I don’t have to dig through the trash. I don’t have to worry about being healthy and able to travel to see my loved ones.

I am beyond blessed.

I share this story to show how we are all guilty of taking life and what we have for granted. We are all struggling in different ways, some way more than others, but we can always take a look around and be grateful for the things that we do have. As much as I try to practice gratitude and be mindful, there are still days when I forget just how lucky I am.

I also share this story as a reminder to be kind and empathetic towards others. It cost me absolutely nothing to help this woman. It also cost me nothing to help the homeless man. I know some would argue that it did because I gave him $5 but $5 to me isn’t anything in the grand scheme of things.

Kindness and empathy cost nothing and they typically provide you with the greatest reward of all; the reward of knowing that you did the right thing.

The next day I spoke with my new friend and asked her to let me know if she is able to send her daughter money and if she needed my help I would help her. I’ve added a screenshot of our conversation. Her sweet words mean the world to me and are proof that people doing the right thing is always the right thing.

P.S. My new friend’s name means Star in Farsi and I think she