He asked to look at my absentee ballot when it came to me in the mail from Georgia, my home state at the time. He fingered it as one might some sacred manuscript. A native of an Asian nation, he worked for me in a U.S. consulate in a Middle Eastern country several years ago. His reverence for my opportunity to vote taught me its value.

That memory overcomes cynicism over the neutral gears that our government often seems stuck in. Cynicism as well over the amount of money spent on elections. Yet, in times past, we have overcome similar problems and voted in better governments and laws. We can change, and voting is one way we do it.

Yes, I’m going to vote this year. I owe it to all those in the world who, like my employee, have no such privilege or vote only in elections so corrupted that they aren’t worthy of the name.

I owe it as well to men and women who have sacrificed far more for my privilege than the time it takes for me to mark my ballot.