To Much!

As I cleaned up the dinner dishes Iwas once again sick over the amount of food we wasted. Either Icook to much or my kids don't eat it. Probaly a little of both. As I watched all that food go down into the garbage disposal it reminded me of the mission trip I took to Guatamala, which feels like a lifetime ago now.
There were kids who would stand in lines for hours to get a bowl of mush. Many of them were left to care for younger siblings while their parents went to find work. There were young girls with varicose viens from the weight of carrying babies that weren't even their own. Usually siblings. The kids seemed so thankful for this bowl of stuff that was some sort of bean conconction. They loved the missionary family that lived there full time and made sure they kept the food line going everyday. Usually the only time they ate.
It also really struck me how the kids smiled. Their smiles were very genuine and seemed soul deep, not superficial. As Americans we automatically think if I could take them all home and take care of them how happy they could be and how great their little lives would be. So I pose the question, how happy are our own kids? Are they genuinely thankful? Are their smiles soul deep? Have we done a good job showing them how lucky they truly are? Do we just try and buy their smiles with gifts and their happiness with lazy parenting? Letting things slide we know we shouldn't?
I might as well tell you about Russia while we're abroad. I often joke with my kids, they will ask where are we going and I'll say to the orphanage. Every single time I say this the Russian orphanage comes into my mind. I also think how lucky they are that this is not really an option for them.
Are we doing our kids a disservice by raising them in utter comfort? Not that I would want to experience pain but the major moments in our lives that shape our character and test us are almost always painful. How awful to grow up and be broadsided by the fact that everything isn't always easy, everything isn't always handed to you on a silver platter and we all fall and bruise our knee.