I pause, frustrated that I've forgotten already about this anticipated evening ritual, frustrated at the rush that pushes thankfulness aside and focuses on the urgent. Shouldn't there always be time for gratitude? Then, I stand thankful for the young one of my own to remind me of the important, thankful for time to give thanks, and thankful for so many blessings to record.
As the pen is passed and the leaves are chosen, we smile at one another's blessings for the day:
books and warm blankets
a brother and sister to play with
wipes in the car (to clean up The Princess when she cried so hard she vomited)
Small gifts, some amusing and some serious, fill our walls each November. And as the trees outdoors lose their leaves, our tree inside branches out.
Our hearts branch out too -- towards each other and toward the Giver of all good gifts.
For shared gratitude is the best sort of gratitude.
And the gifts go on. Praising a generous God for gifts #401 - #418:
gratitude lists of many kinds
people to remind me to give thanks
spots of color on my wall as evidence of blessing
remembering that giving thanks allows our lights to shine before men
a phone call with an old friend
pajamas with a pink tutu
Baby Girl's bowed head and folded hands
"1, 2, 3, 5, 5, 6 . . . " is the way she counts
family that are also friends
loving my husband more each day
a clean floor (even if only for a few minutes!)