I think there is a serendipity to sacrifice - the unexpected leftover that is astonishing in its reward and resultant joy.
I'm not sure it happens every time, but it may always be there waiting to be recognized.

I am sure that those who focus on the pain of the sacrifice may well miss the serendipity. There is always so much to react to in life that it seems so easy to dwell on one part or another and not see the whole.

I visited my 80 year old mother this weekend. A couple of years ago one of my sisters became unable to care for her kids and the oldest, Luke (10 then), went to live with my parents. It was a sacrifice in many ways. When Dad died last January, the serendipity became very apparent. As Luke put it a few months ago: "Grandma and I have a symbiotic relationship - we need each other."

And they do. Together they make life work - each sacrificed and now the serendipity is seen.

How much time do I spend looking for the serendipity instead of fixating on my sacrifice?