I am grateful for sunrise draping Mt. Rainer in a pink nightgown, hugging her buxom crevaces, and for the man some miles away who misses me as I miss him. I am grateful to sit warm amongst clinking glasses and marinated satay while the toothless man without language begs food on the corner outside; and that even though the hungry man is gone as I exit, I am the kind of person who takes him dinner.