Finding Meaning in Our Suffering

"Are you sure you don’t want some of my water?” my brother David asked, extending his canteen.

“I’m fine,” I grumbled irritably.

“What about some protein bars or snacks?” he asked. “Rob and Julie have lots of extra. I’m sure they’d be happy to give you some.”

“No, seriously,” I said, gritting my teeth. “I don’t need any of that stuff. I’m fine. I can do this.”

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