29 Days, 12 Hours, 44 Minutes

You know, I've been reading lately (and hearing on the news and on the radio) about the things people in general are doing to get through this tumultuous economy we are experiencing. And I have to say, among those who are already reeling from the first waves of this storm, it seems there are two camps: (1) those who are really struggling and (2) those who really think they are struggling. Okay, I'll admit that struggling is relative. Even though I laughed at the couple who said that instead of spending $700 per kid for Christmas this year, they are only spending $300 per child; to those parents, that signals privation. As parents, I think it's natural to want to give our children the world, and if suddenly you can only give less than 1/2 the world (even though your neighbors might be struggling to give their children an acre of hopefully decent land), that's a loss (and possibly quite a significant one) to the person who's no longer able to give as planned. Did I lose you somewhere in that rambling sentence? I hope you can still follow what I am trying to say, which is that I know that what I can't see is far more telling than what I can.

Even though I , Allison, think that spending $300 per child is ridiculous (but hey, I'm the mom who occasionally buys gifts off of eBay), I do realize that what defines hardship for me might not be in everyone else's dictionary. And many, many people in our country - and all over the planet - are having to adjust their reading glasses as they search for their appropriate definition of misfortune.

I grew up in a family that had it all. And then didn't. Basically, from the time I was 9 or 10 years old, my family faced financial uncertainty pretty much all the time. You do your best to flick the bad situations as far away as you can, but like boomerangs, they can come back. Uncontrollable circumstances as well as poor decisions have been at the crux of my family's bank balance, but with that, I have learned a few important things that I am immensely grateful for:

1. I am thankful that I know that even during the longest, darkest night, on the lumpiest, hardest mattress, the dawn will come. The sun will rise. And during the daylight, I must do my best to ensure that I will sleep well when the moon overtakes the sky again.
   
2. I am thankful that I know that during a sleepless night, even if I am the only one awake and feeling very alone, stars are still twinkling. And maybe one of those stars is somebody else's sunshine.
3. I am thankful that I know that when the night sky turns to black velvet, it's not announcing the end of the full moon. Instead, the night is shouting out that is time again for a new moon. Each night the moon will continue to glow more brightly until it is full once more. Yes, the full moon will wane again, but that also means a new moon is coming!