Worth Sharing

Been reading a bit more as my travel schedule for work has increased. This passage was one that made me stop and read it again.

The No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency by Alexander McCall Smith.

She would go back there, she thought, when she had worked long enough to retire. She would buy a house, or build one perhaps, and ask some of her cousins to live with her. They would grow melons on the lands an might even buy a small shop in the village; and every morning she could sit in front of her house and sniff at the wood-smoke and look forward to the day talking with her friends. How sorry she felt for white people, who couldn't do any of this, and who were always dashing around and worrying themselves over things that were going to happen anyway. What use was it having all that money if you could never sit still or just watch your cattle eating grass? None, in her view; none at all, and yet they did not know it. Every so often you met a white person who understood, who realized how things really were; but these people are few and far between and the other white people often treated them with suspicion.