Living as expats in Delhi, India, we are accosted by severe poverty every single day. The drive to my daughters’ elementary school takes us past a small slum. During our 7 a.m. commute, children squat by the side of the busy road, defecating. My girls don’t blink. This is daily life for them. As an adult, I am less immune to the destitution. Every morning, it hits me like a fresh slap in the face. I have to wonder: With poverty so pervasive, how do I keep my children sensitive to the plight of the less fortunate? How do I make them thankful for what they have?
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