A few events this past week have left me feeling uncomfortably aware of injustice and suffering, but frustratingly unaware of how I might help alleviate either. I finished reading the book, “The Kite Runner,” by Khaled Hosseini. The lack of safety, of food, and of basic human rights brought immediacy to the plight of Afghanis today. I have watched newscasts and read articles about the war torn country, but “The Kite Runner” put a human face of the suffering, and I did not want to look at it. What can I do?

A few days later I clicked on the television. The news segment had me looking into the eyes of Somali children. Children watching as relief workers scooped mounds of sticky rice into their old plastic buckets. Children struggling with the weight of the food, hurrying back to families waiting for it. Children, the reporters voice said, who were dying by the thousands in the drought and famine ridden country.

A commercial. Children skipping alongside their families, heading to a restaurant that promises to feed them without charge. Pancakes with whipped cream and fruit happy faces. All you can eat. One low price. Back to Somalia where families are eating rice from a bucket and swatting flies from their faces.

The following day at work I shared an elevator ride with one of the women who make up the housekeeping staff. We smile at each other as the doors close.