My childhood was spent in the bush of Africa. My grandfather was a medical doctor in Angola, where my father grew up. My father chose to live there also, so that is where I began my journey. When I was 8 years old, the war for independence began against the colonialists, so we moved to Rhodesia (now Zimbabwe), and that is where I went to high school.

Rhodesia was an apartheid country. I had to get special permission, since I was white, to go to the local black African high school where my parents taught. While I would be integrating a school, it was also a difficult decision because I would be taking the place of a black African student’s education. As a privileged white child, I could get education anywhere. Whereas black Africans were tested every two years, and half their number would be cut from the next level. By the time they got to high school, they were the best of the best, and a high school education was highly valued. I was given permission to go to the school, and I spent the next four years there before coming to the US for college.

I tell you this story to share with you the deep and abiding gratitude that this experience gave me for many things that we take for granted in this country. Education is one of them, but there are many more.

Simply walking into a regular supermarket here is still mind boggling to me even after all these years. The abundance and variety of food we have here is astounding, especially since we don’t have to grow it ourselves. Simply having clean running water in our homes is a miracle by African standards, since most have to walk their water home from wells or rivers. We also have electricity in our homes, light to read by, and books to read. The fact that we can drive almost anywhere we want instead of walking to our destination is amazing. Our houses that shelter us are enormous by African standards. We have central heating and air conditioning. We are entertained by televisions, computers, and i phones.

I remember well the experience of going through several droughts in Africa. People were starving all around us. As a child, I couldn’t understand why we had plenty but others did not. Yet that was the privilege of growing up a white American child in Africa.

I don’t tell you this for you to feel guilty, but rather to underline the depth of gratitude that we can feel for our lives here. I would love for us to not take this abundance for granted. Appreciation is a gift in life, it can carry us through difficult times. At a time when many of us are worried about our economy and what it may mean for us, appreciation for what we do have can give our lives joy and a simple peace.

Much Love and Blessings,
Viki Markham