Thanksgiving

Happy Thanksgiving- Thanksgiving is not about a day, but rather a choice and a lifestyle. It is easy to post a video and photo, but harder to put into words, what I am thankful for. I am thankful for Life.  Sure I believe in Heaven- but I want to thank  God for not only giving me another day- but so many of my friends and family. I am thinking of the one who was flown to Harborview with only 30% chance of surviving a flesh eating disease, a co worker who beat cancer, a friend who survived diabetes and heart problems as well as those babies who survived abortions. I am thinking of those who I cannot wish a Happy Thanksgiving to this year but have influenced my life so much and I cannot tell them now. Perhaps I do not know how close some came to not being here today- including myself? I value life more each day, not because of my age, but to see so many loosing it- many needlessly. Your life is important, sadly some took their own life  last year, that is so sad and selfish. You are important, and I am thankful for you- even if I have not met you yet- you have a purpose and God Loves You.

A Helping Hand

Years ago, a Thanksgiving Day editorial in a newspaper told of a school teacher who asked her first graders to draw a picture of something they were thankful for. Most of the children were from poor neighborhoods, and the young woman sorrowfully thought of how little they had to be thankful for. Nevertheless she knew most would draw pictures of stubby brown turkeys on tables loaded with bowls of food.                      

That's not what a little boy named Douglas turned in.            
The teacher was taken aback with his picture of a childishly drawn hand.            
The whole class was captivated too. The teacher asked them to guess whose hand it was. "I think it must be the hand of God that brings us food," said one child. "It's a farmer," said another, "because he grows the turkeys."            
Once she put her pupils back to work, the teacher bent over Douglas's desk and quietly asked him whose hand it was.            
"It's your hand, Teacher," he mumbled.            
The woman smiled and went back to her desk. There she recalled that frequently at recess she would hold one of the children's hands. She hadn't thought much about it. But obviously Douglas, a scrubby forlorn child, had. That simple, caring gesture was something he was thankful for.            
"Perhaps this is everyone's Thanksgiving," the teacher said to herself, "not for the material things given to us, but for the chance, in whatever small way, to give to others."            
-- Adapted from a sermon by Eric Lenhart, illustrated by Stories from the Heart (Multnomah Books: Sisters, OR 1996).