Suffering

So I am a firm believer that life is complicated.  There's no such thing as a life with only happiness or only suffering.  Some lives have more suffering than happiness and some more happiness than suffering.  I am one of those people that does believe that poverty has a direct relationship with much of the suffering in the world.  It's easy for people with money to say that money doesn't make you happy - but truly if they were to live a day in the extreme poverty we see in this world, they may realize it might not make you happy, but it certainly doesn't hurt.  Where am I going with this you wonder?  I was at the park yesterday (hiding under the tree from the rain while the kids practiced their soccer skills) when a man I recognized from town came up to me.  He had tears in his eyes.  I wondered what was wrong but didn't want to pry so just stood closely to him with a small child and hoped just being around him might lend some comfort.  Not long later he explained to me that he is disabled (that's evident) and that he is unable to work.  That his wife is the only one who is supporting their family including many children.  He said he wants for his children to go home with a white to America to be educated.  To which I replied a REALLY stupid response of, but your children have your love here and won't they miss you terribly.  DUH!  Of course they would, and he knows that.  This wasn't about love...and it wasn't about a hand out of money...it was about his real fear that he would not be able to help his children rise above the poverty their family is living in.  It's his real fear that without money in Ghana they will not go to high school, they may not find a suitable job that would pay well, they may also marry, fall ill, and their families too could live in the poverty he was suffering.  This was a different type of conversation.  Many times people here will ask me for money or to buy them things.  This man was deliberate.  He talked about how I handled the children at the park each day, he talked about how the kids come home from school and practice spelling my name, he had thought harder about this than a simple ask for a handout.  I cried most of the night last night thinking about how I would have to tell him at some point that no, I cannot take your children home with me.  It's not the answer or the right thing to do, but it's horrible to have to say that.  I am sad for him, but really I am sad for all the families that live in extreme poverty so that so very few can live in such luxury.  Listen, I'm no saint, and I surely have earned enough to live at least comfortably so I am part of the problem, but it breaks my heart to know that his solution - the one he longs for so terribly is not one I can be a part of.