Several years ago, I taught a class on Spiritual Formation at a university. As part of that
class, I required the students to keep what I called, a Thankful Journal. I wanted
them to find at least one thing every day for which they were thankful and
write something about it. It was an effort to incorporate an attitude of gratitude
into their lives. I challenged them to give thanks for the people and things they
commonly ignored.
When I gave the students that assignment, they—most in their first year of
college—looked at me like I was from another planet.
So, I tried to bring the project into their world. When I asked how many of them
lived in one of the college dormitories, a majority of raised hands indicated
they did.
“Have you noticed the person, the custodian, who cleans your dorm hall?” I
asked.
The class was silent.
“Do you know his/her name?”
Not one student did.
“Can anyone tell me anything about that person?”
Again, blank stares from the students.
“Have you ever stopped to thank that person?”
None had.
I gave them the benefit of the doubt, for after all, they had been on campus no
more than a week. But they got the point: we tend to overlook that which isn’t
important to us.
And what gets ignored, gets forgotten.
And never thanked.
This Thursday, Thanksgiving Day, make an attempt, amidst getting that meal ready, cleaning up after guests, and posing for the annual family picture, to
give thanks for a few of those things we don’t see because they’ve been
forgotten, things we take for granted.
I read about a grade school teacher who asked her students to list what they
believed were the Seven Wonders of the World. A few minutes later, they turned
in their answers. The teacher listed the answers in order of what the students
thought were the most popular. The list went like this: The Great Pyramids, The
Grand Canyon, The Great Wall of China, The Panama Canal, The Taj Mahal, The
Empire State Building, St. Peter’s Basilica.
Then the teacher noticed one little girl who had failed to turn in her
assignment; she was still struggling with it. So, the teacher went to her directly
and asked her what she had put down for her answer.
“There are so many wonders,” she said, “I just can’t decide.”
“Well, tell me what you have, and maybe we can help you.”
“Okay,” the girl said, “here goes: I think the Seven Wonders of the World are to
see, to hear, to touch, to taste, to feel, to laugh, and to love.”
The classroom was completely quiet; you could have heard a pin drop. The teacher realized that the little girl didn’t need help from the class; it was the class, including the teacher, who needed help from the little girl.
We take the real wonders of the world for granted every day.
So, this Thanksgiving morning, as soon as I awake, I’m going to wiggle my toes
and give the good Lord thanks that I can do that, because last week, when I
visited a long-term care center, I fed lunch to a sweet soul who has suffered
several strokes lately and has a hard time feeling her toes.
Then, I’m going to tell my wife, “I love you,” because I don’t say it enough and
was reminded of that as I watched my friend, who couldn’t even tell me
whenever she was ready for another bite of food—much less say she loved me,
which I believe, looking deeply into her eyes, she does.
Then I’m going to wrap my arms around anyone who will let me take them in,
and I’m going to tell them something I like about them, because my friend in
the care center wanted to thank me, I believe, but couldn’t reach out to hug me.
And I’m going to love everyone I encounter with an overflowing heart of
gratitude, because I am loved by people I don’t know, people whose love I don’t deserve.
Now that I think of it: why should I wait till Thanksgiving?
I’ll think I’ll begin my thanksgiving right now.