When someone asks you what you really want for Christmas, the common reply is, “World peace.”
Even if you are cynical enough to believe it’s the gift that can never be given, it is the perennial standard and should be at the top of everyone’s gift list.
It is not so unattainable, after all. (If you believe, as I do, that as you change your world you change the whole world, then it follows that the business of the world is best minded by minding your own. Man in the mirror.)
Now, lest you think that I am an aloof soul who gives thanks begrudgingly, hesitantly, insincerely let me remind you that things are often the opposite of what they seem. My worst day is better by far than the best day of most of the human population.
I try to see the disappointments in life as opportunities and stepping stones.
So it is with giving thanks and Thanksgiving. What are you thankful for, Malcolm? I am thankful for the people I often carp and grouse about, also known as my family and friends. But this year I am going to look at the lesser gratitudes, the personal ones, the ones often overlooked.
-I am thankful for parents who taught me to take responsibility for my life. Good parenting seems to be in short supply these days.
-I am thankful for two amazingly wonderful daughters, gifts from a God never proven to me, but never disproven either. I gave unto them as my parents gave unto me.
-I am thankful for my eighth grade teacher, who despite my aversion to school and my love of playing hooky, pushed me to do better and held me accountable. Thank you, Mrs. Himmelfarb.
-I am thankful for the stranger who picked me up on Interstate 93 North after my car broke down on the coldest winter day in recent memory. He asked me where I worked and drove me there. He went eight miles and thirty minutes out of his way.
-I am thankful for strangers who say hello with a smile. They’ve taught me to do the same.
-I am thankful for all the good people who were patient with me when I was impatient with them. One such person was a woman on the other end of a customer service call some years ago. I became curt with her, though none of my problem was her fault. “Having a bad day, Malcolm? We all do. I understand your frustration,” said she kindly. I felt foolish. I thanked her for her understanding and help and hung up, chastened by the experience.
-I am thankful for the distant drone of the single engine plane and the whistle of the midnight train. I am but half sure why I find these so wistful and comforting. They are mysteries I want to leave undiscovered. Some things are best left untouched for when you touch them they turn to dust. Like telling your secret crush you love her.
-I am thankful for the simple things of creation like sunny days and rainy days, mountains and valleys, all creatures great and small….
-I am thankful for music, the divine spark in the human heart, the divine hand which rocks the cradle that holds my soul.
-I am forever thankful for those men and women who, in service to this nation, gave their minds or their lives that we should live in freedom. Only they know how very precious freedom is. Only they.
-I am a recent transplant to Newburyport and not really qualified to write about my adopted hometown. Still, there are some things Newburyport I am thankful for. The walking trails, striper fishing at the mouth of the Merrimac, the open waterfront, the hidden gems among the many restaurants, Plum Island Coffee Roasters. And I do thank the tribal elders for letting me take up residence here.
But none of this talk matters unless I get off my duff and walk the walk. Get out there and volunteer, make a difference in another life, give someone else something to be thankful for. So, I’ve offered my services as a volunteer to the Pettengill House and Roof Overhead.
Finally, in a world where American stock has plummeted – often rightfully and unfortunately so – I want the world to know that this guy is one American who is thankful for all that he has and knows all they do not. Never should they wonder if there is such a thing as a humble American.
So this year when I sit down to the Thanksgiving meal, bound to commit the deadly sin of gluttony (and a couple others, no doubt, as I slothfully lie on the couch, unbuckling the belt for comfort, watching football, wrathfully yelling at the other team for scoring), I will say grace and mention these lesser gratitudes. For all the difference they have made.
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