More than enough

women with balloons
Carolyn DeCillo–Staff
It was sixth grade. My good friend, Jenny, got on the bus that morning as she did every school day. But that day, she was sporting brand new designer jeans, which she happily pointed out as she sat down. Back then, I wasn’t allowed to wear any kind of jeans to school. And as she chirped on about how she and her mom had gotten them the night before, I keenly felt that deep discontent known as envy. By the time the bus pulled up to school, I was pretty unhappy, not only with Jenny, but with just about everything in my day, my life, and myself. 

Hard to imagine a pair of jeans could have that kind of power! 

Of course, it wasn’t an article of clothing that had any intrinsic ability to make me feel bad. It was simply the power I gave it when I decided what I had wasn’t nearly as good as what someone else had. And as soon as I gave into that corrosive conclusion, my whole world came crashing down around me.

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