Until I got to the Philippines, I did not know I was rich. My eyes made sure to clear things up for me. I went from feeling bad about being ‘just middle class’ to a better understanding of my relative place in the world.

There was a little boy who held an umbrella for me to enter a cab in the rain. He only wanted a tip. My girl reached across and closed the door and said if i wanted to help I should give to the organizations that help. Whatever. Two years later his hungry face is still in my heart. I should have helped him.

Later in my trip I found myself stepping over hundreds of families in a square. They lived there on the sidewalk! I saw a fellow who had his arm slung over his toolbelt. His woman had her arm slung over him and there were several kids huddled up to her.

I found myself jealous.

Why? Because I have never seen that level of marital and family loyalty in my own people, who get divorced over not being able to agree on who would cook.

There may be rich people in the Philippines, but from what I saw there and compared to America, there are very, very few poor people in America. Even the poorest amongst Americans have washing machines, dishwashers and automobiles.

I believe that I am obligated to help the person in front of me, not remake society into something where everybody is guaranteed the same outcome. Like Ghandi asked…what actions do I need to take that will benefit the poor person in front of me the most…right now.

The more people try to use the government to guarantee equal distribution of wealth, the more wealth you will drive into the hands of those who throw the switches of government control and out of the hands of the people.

Marx is most likely in hell. Even if he is forgiven and managed to make it to some level of Heaven I am sure he spends most of his time on his knees, eaten by his own conscience.

This, too, shall pass away.

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