Gratefulness. Gratitude. Appreciation. Thankfulness.
I'll be the first to admit it, sometimes when I am caught in winter's frozen grip, it's hard to keep that attitude of gratitude. It's hard to focus on what I have to be truly thankful for (and it's a long list!!) when my nose is constantly cold, and no matter how many slippers I put on my feet stay frozen. My chest feels tight and all I really want to do is climb into my flannel pjs after work and huddle up on the sofa, preferably wrapped in a blanket near the fireplace. With a windchill way below zero, it's hard to scrounge up a few crumbs of gratitude.
But I'll try...let's see, for starters my sister-in-law has just informed me that today is National Drink Wine Day. Who knew?! I'm grateful that I can do my part to celebrate this significant holiday. And what was in my mailbox today?? All sorts of "hang on, spring is coming" little cheerleaders! First cheerleader...a garden bulb catalog. Hmm, I'll take three silver lace vines and raise you two caladiums. Oh wait, that may be the wine talking...
So on second thought, I guess I have much to be thankful for this cold winter's day. Sometimes it's the little things that get us through...
by Dale Biron
Each day the engine of my gratefulness
must be coaxed and primed into action.
Of course like any old clunker,
it would just as soon stay put.
For even after the labored start beats the inertia,
and the plume of white smoke struggles upward,
the same hills always appear,
soaring daily—tall and ominous as before.
There is the long slow hill of “aging”
so gradual and smooth at first.
And then that steep grade called “the news.”
Yes, and always some mountain of a war
looming out there, never too far in the distance.
Even an old idea or a feeling long abandoned
might conspire to halt this fragile progress –
valves sputtering, tires flattening, clutch slipping.
But the old “potato, potato, potato” sound
of the engine, and all its mysterious fuel,
for which I am truly grateful
keeps stumbling along.