There’s no such thing as having too much fun or saying thanks too often. Few of us say thank you enough, but I’m married to one of those who does. “Thanks for the meal,” he says, even if it was just leftovers or popcorn. “Thanks for making the bed, riding along to town, or taking out the ashes. Thanks for loving me.”
I wonder how our world would change if we thanked our family members regularly instead of taking them for granted. Thanks to mom for cooking, for doing the laundry, or picking you up from school. To dad, for teaching you to drive and balance a checkbook. To a sibling for sharing something, for waiting for you when you’re late, and making you laugh. Thanks to your kid for picking up his room, coming home on time and calling when he will be late, for doing the dishes and not picking a fight with his sister over that silly thing she said. For being courteous to elders, teachers, and the law enforcement in your town.
I read once that if the only prayer you ever say is “thank you,” that is enough.
My church has a tradition of the little blue box. Put a coin in when you are thankful, and once a year add it up and write a check to the United Thank Offering. It’s amazing what those coins can accomplish. Our priest told of meeting the Bishop of Alaska many years ago. He had an airplane named The Blue Box, that he used to visit the churches in his diocese. So named because a grant from the United Thank Offering made the plane possible.
Lately, I’ve been gathering in the little blessings and writing them down in my journal. Here excerpts from last week’s accounting.
A cloud of thousands of Sandhill Cranes has settled to rest in our valley on the way to their winter quarters. They look like a billowing curtain against the hills, landing on the lake and taking flight again, all the while conversing in that magical song that is like no other this side of heaven.
Balmy days that require no jacket and make me wonder if I put away the fans too soon.
Stepping out on the porch at sunrise, at the home place. Air so still that I could hear a leaf fall. The cowboy crew just opening corral gates to move the weaned cows to pasture. A yip, and a haw to get them started, and then hoofbeats crossing the road. I longed to be horseback with them, even knowing of the saddle sores at the end of a dozen miles riding drag. Thankful, in a way, that I don’t have to be, but so very grateful to have had the privilege of living that life.
A fellow stocking shelves in the grocery store, asked if he could help me find anything and wished me a wonderful day. I truly think he meant it. An older gentleman passed by on the sidewalk as I pushed my cart to the vehicle. “Grandma, let me help you with that,” he said, and loaded my purchases into the rig. “I hope someone is home to help you unload,” he worried. I thanked him, and passed along the wonderful day wish.
Be creative in thanking people this week, and keep it up all year. You’ll be amazed how your life, your job, your marriage, and your family will change. Maybe even the world.