A couple of weeks ago, we took our nine year old son to Ethiopia. There he toured an orphanage that reminded me of Auschwitz. He met a boy whose mother died on his 6th birthday, at which point he lived on the streets until he came to into the orphanage. He saw children wearing literally rags, with empty bellies, who had no idea where their next meal would come from.
We did this to try and give him some perspective on his life, and all his blessings.
We did this so that if, for instance, he were playing a video game on a Kindle that cost more than most Ethiopians earn in a year, and he spent a lot of time building a house in Minecraft, and it somehow disappeared, he would not burst into tears and say, "It's not fair! I hate my life!"