I was returning home from work last night when I noticed something.

As our bus passed by, I saw what I thought were just things lying on the ground. But as we got closer, I realised they weren't things.

They were little children.

They were sleeping on mats spread out on the pedestrian walkway by the roadside.

I was shocked.

“These are human beings?” I asked.

Everyone in the bus laughed.

“Is this your first time seeing them?”

“Yes,” I said. “I've never noticed them before.”

Someone looked at me and said, “Every time we pass this road, you don't notice that these little children sleep here?”

I said no.

And honestly, I was shocked.

These were little children, some of them probably not even up to ten years old, sleeping on the street.

Then someone said something that really got to me.

“Look at you. You have a roof over your head. You have food to eat. You should be grateful. These children don't even have a place to sleep.”

That statement stayed with me.

Yes, I have a roof over my head.

I have food to eat.

I have clean water to drink.

I have a bed, a pillow and a fan blowing over me while I sleep.

I have clothes to wear and shoes on my feet.

Yet sometimes, I complain because I don't have the kind of shoe I want.

I complain because I can't afford the things I want.

I complain because my money isn't enough.

And here were children sleeping outside.

Children who would wake up in the morning and go out to beg for whatever they could get to survive, then return to the same roadside at night and spread out their mats to sleep.

And suddenly, I felt it.

I felt the weight of my own ingratitude.

The person beside me said something else that struck me.

“You will be complaining, whereas somebody else is praying just to have the life you are living now.”

And it hit me.

I am someone's answered prayer.

I had never really thought about myself that way.

Someone could be praying for the very things I sometimes take for granted.

Someone could be asking God for a roof over their head.

Someone could be praying for the food I complain about.

Someone could be praying for the clothes I sometimes think aren't good enough.

Someone could be praying for the simple things I don't even stop to appreciate anymore.

And there I was, surrounded by blessings, yet complaining about what I didn't have.

My ingratitude had become so loud that I was no longer seeing what I had.

I sat there in that bus and said, “God, I'm sorry. I've been ungrateful.”

Maybe people laughed when I said it.

But it had already sunk deep into me.

I began to think about how easily we forget.

Our problems become so loud that they make us blind to our blessings.

Money isn't enough.

The job isn't exactly what we want.

The relationship isn't where we want it to be.

We don't have the kind of house we dream about.

We don't have the clothes, shoes, car or lifestyle we wish we had.

And because we are looking so hard at what we don't have, we forget the things we once prayed for.

We forget how far we have come.

We forget that there was a time when we desperately wanted some of the things we now consider normal.

I'm not saying you shouldn't want more.

I'm not saying you shouldn't work for a better life.

But while you are working towards what you want, don't become so blind to what you already have.

Pause.

Look around you.

There is probably something in your life that someone else is praying for.

You may not have everything you want, but you have something.

You may still be waiting for your own breakthrough, but don't let the waiting make you blind to the blessings that are already sitting in your hands.

Because sometimes, we are so busy asking God for more that we forget to thank Him for what we already have.

So today, I want you to pause.

Reflect.

Look at your life again.

And maybe, just maybe, you will realise something I realised last night:You are someone's prayer point.

Someone is looking at a life like yours and saying,“God, if only I could have this.”

So, be grateful.

For the little things.

For the things you have become so used to that you no longer notice them.

For the roof over your head.

For the food you eat.

For the clothes on your body.

For the people around you.

For life itself.

You may not have everything.

But you have something.

And someone, somewhere, may be praying for exactly that.