Gratitude

At Checka's most recent children's yoga class, she asked the kids to think of things that they were thankful for. My oldest twin had quite a list - the planet, the universe, the land, food, our country, and family. My other two kids say they didn't say anything at yoga that they were thankful for, but I know from recent talks here at the house that their lists are similar.

I was thrust back in time to when I was in what must have been third grade. The librarian at our school was a very stereotypical librarian - stern and cruel, with a powerful shusher. Her skin was leathery and cracked, showing the skin damage indicative of having lived at least seven decades in Florida and having smoked for at least six of those. She had been the librarian at the school when my mom went there. Needless to say, I was terrified of her.

On our library day prior to Thanksgiving, we, too, were asked to recall what we were thankful for. As usual, I wasn't paying much attention, and she picked me last. I thought the directions she had given were to say something we were thankful for but that we couldn't repeat something that someone had already said. So here I was, twenty or so kids in, and I didn't pay attention to what any of them had said, and I couldn't think of anything that wasn't obvious that had probably already been mentioned. So I said I didn't have anything that I was thankful for.

Lizardy Librarian then turned on me with the full force of her thankfulness and unleashed an angry tirade that I have fortunately blocked out. There was some sort of punishment involved that I seem to remember consisted of writing "I am thankful for ..." several hundred times.

I've always had a ready list of things to be thankful for since that day. You know, just in case.