Give thanks…

Hethanksgivingre we are again.

It is Thanksgiving.

Where, O where, do we begin?

I could say thanks for buttons,

zippers, snaps and velcro, or

we would all be wearing

sweatshirts and sweatpants

every day.

Or for hi-liters, which help me

remember poignant words

and phrases that light fires

in my imagination and heart.

Or seeking furniture for the homeless

who now have a home, someone

calls and says, “We have a couch.”

Or the cold nose of my dog, nuzzling

me right now.

Or a military honor guard who folds the

flag as if his life depended on it and

looks right in the eyes of the widow

to bring comfort and gratitude from

the President.

Or the Psalmist writing, “though there

be tears in the night, there will be joy

in the morning.”

Or the sweetened taste of a tart cherry

in a pie or cherry crunch.

Or the cold weather which lets me

wear my pullover fleece from the

Down Syndrome Association of

Central Kentucky.

Or freshly washed hands.

Or The Message.

Or the Ray Harm print of seven

game birds over my desk.

Or thankful birds after I feed them.

Or a grandson with a sense of humor.

Or, or, or, ad infinitum.

Thanks be to God. Period.

Moving to the deeper places,