Ukraine’s at war, Manny’s dad was murdered, and my cup of coffee cost $6.

Life is hard. For everyone. Struggle is certain. And, even the most outwardly fortunate don’t get to leave this thing without suffering at least a few torments of the damned. 

Make no mistake, it is more difficult for some than others. For example, when I consider my life, it is impossible to begin to compare it to the hardship that my, who was born in Rwanda at the time the genocidal war swept through his country. 

I met Manny through another friend I met while at work for my family’s business. 

At the time, Manny had been living in the Unite States for about three years. He’d gone to university in Rwanda and was offered a work visa to come and work in America as an accountant at a large consulting firm. 

One day, my friend Travis, whom eventually introduced me to Manny, invited me to the park to exercise with him and Manny. 

I was delighted at the invite and agreed to join them.

We ran through the park and we talked while we ran.

After about three miles of running, we stopped in the grass near the entrance to the park. 

We all decided to do body weight exercises to finish our workout. I told them I knew a good basic workout that was highly effective. I said we can all do it together. 

I grabbed my iPhone and clicked the app on my phone that presents a digital card deck. 

I explained the workout to Manny and Travis. 

It’s simple but it’s not easy, I said. The deck has fifty-two cards in it. Each time I tap my phone screen, my phone will show a new card in the deck. Based on the card that appears, we will do the corresponding number of pushups. For example, if I flip an eight of hearts, we’ll do eight push ups. We’ll do this for the entire deck, I explained. 

We worked through the deck and towards the end, Travis and Manny struggled to finish. But, they pushed through. 

Once finished, we sat in the grass as the sun began to set and we talked.

I shared about my life and they shared about theirs. 

We left the park and made plans to do it again soon.

A few days later, Manny and I texted each other to coordinate a plan to exercise again. We agreed to meet in the same place and do the same workout. Travis was unable to make it because he had family obligations. 

Manny and I ran through the park again. We did our pushups. This time, we played music while we did them. I asked Manny what his favorite music to workout to was and he told me he liked a music called ‘Afrobeat’. That’s what we played. It turned out, ‘Afrobeat’ style music is prevalent in the modern day hip-hop music I listen to and so I really enjoyed the introduction to this new genre of music.

This time, while we worked out, our conversation reached depths greater than our last conversation. 

Manny shared much of what it was like to grow up in Rwanda. 

I was young when the genocide was happening, Manny said. 

He told me that one Saturday afternoon, he and his family were home enjoying a typical weekend afternoon when soldiers came knocking at their door. Both of his parents were home and so were his siblings. They’d all planned to spend the whole day together, as was customary throughout many of his Saturday afternoons as a child.

When the soldiers arrived, without explanation or warning, they’d taken his father into the front yard and murdered him. 

The reason: he lived on the wrong side of the street. 

The way Manny described the conflict prevalent in the country at that time was that basically the war was being fought over certain segments of geography. Therefore, if you lived in a certain part of town, you could be considered an enemy to the opposing group and be murdered at random. 

That Saturday afternoon was the last Saturday afternoon Manny ever got to spend with his father. 

Despite witnessing such cruelty at a remarkably young age, Manny grew into a kind and gentle soul. As soft spoken as a preschool teacher he is. Brilliant, too. 

I remember leaving our workout and consequent conversation and thinking about how different our lives had been up until that point. 

I’d never come close to experiencing that sort of hardship but still, at times, I find myself complaining about the perceived injustices in my own life. 

It’s experiences and stories like Manny’s that help me readjust my perspective on the world. 

It was a conversation like that one that helped me realize that we’re all going to face struggles in our own life and in our own ways but instead of growing bitter and cold about it all, we can take a moment to be thankful that we live in a country where we often get to choose the struggles we embark upon. 

It’s times like right now that I like to think of people like Manny and those suffering senseless attacks in Ukraine and think about how lucky I truly am. 

For I’m reminded that for all the struggles I have, it could always be worse. 

Much worse.