As soon as the grain is ripe, he puts the sickle to it, because the harvest has come. No wonder Pilgrims gave thanks. But the average person lives too far from the soil to awe at amber waves of grain. I had glanced at my watch and tapped my foot while the checker worked slowly through the loaded grocery cart ahead of me. Yes, for starters.
Women stand in lines for hours in Moscow to buy fresh fruit.
The selection on our supermarket shelves would boggle the mind of a Mexican villager. We thank God for a warm home and a table to eat at-the homeless live out of their cars at the park. Yes, so does the Chinese peasant bending over in a cold rice paddy. You pays your money, but you can't buy health. You pays your money, but you can't buy a son or a daughter.