Why Did God Create 'Poverty'?

'Poverty'.
What do I know about it?
Thanks to my parents, they hid its face under a blanket of happiness and joys of life. Their effort was noticed when I was old enough to know that almost two third of dad's salary went to milk and food for me. My mom, a smart and creative lady, was the money manager dividing the remaining amount between their food component, electricity, dad's motor fuel, his cigarette and gathering invitations for his airforce students from time to time. When that a third was not enough, she sold iced mung bean with sweet coconut milk or took up sewing my neighbor's clothes and got Rp 3.000 - Rp 5.000. There's always a way out for anything. Basically. Even after I know what my parents had been through back then, we're nowhere near the situation of being poor.

When I came to the office two weeks ago, I saw my head of janitor sitting. He's holding a piece of paper, folding and then unfolding it.
'What's that?' I asked.
He handed it to me.'I want to get my son to work here. Perhaps as a cleaning service staff.'
I examined the data. I saw a photo of a young man, clean and fair. It said that he was born in 1993. His birthday was going to be on the 12 of July. He's going to be 17 in 4 days. So young. I remember how I was when I was seventeen.
'I have no choice. If he still goes to school, he needs Rp 10.000 everyday for transportation and meals.' His words snapped my mind back to the present.
'Do you really want him to work? What about school?' I was becoming impatient, angry of the decision he has to make.
'He's quit since five months ago. I figure he can join the certification C program later. I borrowed some money already but it wasn't enough.' His eyes were covered with tears.
'I mean, do you really want him to work because you need him to make money to support the family?' I asked.
'Yes. I still have two kids and both are still in elementary and junior high school. We need his help to pay for his siblings' school tuition. They have to go to school, ma'am. I have to choose.' He replied. His face showed how hopeless he is to the situation.

He has been a staff in our office since the branch opened. Our office is in the coastal area in the north, his house is in a different city way south of my city. How does he go to work? By train. Relying on a regular customer train ticket, he goes to the office, takes off in Kota Station and he WALKS. For 2 kilometers from one end of the road to the other, where our office is located. It's his mechanism to save money. I don't think he brings money to work. He rarely is seen having lunch. It's his mechanism, too. That's why he is never willing to be stationed in a branch that requires extra expense to reach. Everybody in the office seems to know that. Train trips back and forth, that's all he could afford. And now, he can't afford paying his first son's tuition.

I left him with his problems. I felt so useless for not being able to do anything for him. I went inside to the library. It's dark and quiet. I found the darkest corner there. And I quietly cried.