Counting Our Blessings

I just finished reading Have a Little Faith: A True Story by Mitch Albom. I didn't expect to enjoy it as much as I did. In the book, Albom describes the journey he took after his childhood rabbi, Albert Lewis, contacted him and asked to see him. Albom had not seen the rabbi in years, but complied. When they met, Rabbi Lewis told Albom that he wanted him to deliver his eulogy. Not knowing what else to say, Albom agreed, but only on the condition that he could meet with the rabbi on a regular basis so that he could learn more about his life. And so they did that, for about ten years. Alongside the story of Al Lewis, Albom writes about Henry Covington, a person his age who grew up not far from him, though they were not friends. Covington's story was vastly different from that of Al Lewis, and involved lots of brushes with the law and finally a stretch in prison. He battled drug abuse and extreme poverty, but eventually became a preacher to a poor, crumbling church in Detroit. The book moves back and forth between the two men, one facing the end of his life, and the other finding his purpose in life. I was reminded when reading this book about how fortunate I am to have grown up in relative comfort, and that I have always had a fulltime job and a good home. As the story bounces back and forth between the life of Al Lewis and Henry Covington, one cannot but take a breath and think, "There but by the grace of God went I!" Al Lewis lived a very long and happy life, serving generations of his synagogue family. When he died, hundreds came to honor and pay tribute to his life and work. Henry Covington continues to serve a diverse array of members of his church: homeless, hungry and struggling folks. Albom was challenged, and ultimately, changed, through the work of both men. Reading the book is an experience in seeing both sides of the faith coin, realizing how our blessings in life obligate us to work that others may be blessed, as well.