A month ago most of us were unwrapping gifts and making noises of excitement, surprise, and gratitude. “Ooh,” would come from our mouths, followed by “Aah,” “It’s just what I wanted,” or “What a great gift!” Wrapping paper was strewn all around and bows were haphazardly slapped on the backs of cats and dogs as they walked by. (I was busy doing other things which you can read about here, but I know that’s what most of you were doing.)
A mere thirty-one days later, most of those gifts are sitting in some place where we may see them, use them, but do not gush over them. Special gifts quickly become common. “Constant gratitude for common gifts is uncommon,” Edward Hays writes.
Four years ago I was very sick. I could not walk to the bathroom without help. I kept getting weaker and weaker, and the doctors did not know what was wrong. When they finally found out and did the things I needed- surgery, medicines, rehabilitation- I began to get better and was so grateful for…well…everything. The feel of clean sheets, the taste of cold milk, being able to walk to the mailbox, feeling the sun on my face, the sound of rain hitting the HVAC system outside my study window, getting texts and calls from friends. All of it brought so much gratitude to my heart. And I could not stop saying prayers of thanksgiving for all that had been done for and to me.
In her book Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, Annie Dillard tells the story of a blind 22-year-old girl. She had an operation, and suddenly she could see! But she closed her eyes for the next two weeks because of the brightness of the world. When she finally opened them she just kept saying repeatedly, “Oh God! How beautiful!”
I understand why we can’t be in a constant state of overwhelming gratitude. The emotional energy it drains from us would keep us from doing anything else. I love a good party, especially a surprise one. But afterward, I am worn out and need some rest.
Still, we need to find ways of experiencing the joy of the gifts we are constantly surrounded by. The dullness to our senses and our spirits robs us of the fullness of life. We miss so much of what is around us. Last night Henry McMaster, the governor of my fair state, quoted Joni Mitchell’s song “Big Yellow Taxi.” “Don’t it always seem to go that you don’t know what you’ve got ‘til it’s gone.” It’s when we lose those gifts that we realize that we could have been more grateful.
So, on this month after Christmas Day, I think I’ll give special attention to all of the normal, common, everyday gifts in my life. And do my best to be thankful.
Michael Henderson 