What Children Have Taught Me About Gratitude

A couple of years ago, when my granddaughter was 3 years old, she sort of knocked me off kilter by what she said.  It was a Friday afternoon. Not just any Friday, but Nattie Friday--that magical day that arrives every other week, and we get to spend it with her. We were on our way home from a playground. This was after our typical round of coloring, eating "forbidden" chocolate, baking cupcakes, and whatever else we could do that was fun. That was an important rule. It had to be fun.  With little hands gripping her lovey, she stopped sucking her thumb and her tiny voice came from the  backseat, "Grammie, I had fun today."  I smiled so hard my eyes squinted nearly shut. I could barely see to drive.

She had not even uttered the word, "thanks".  Nope. Nothing even close to it, but her gratitude came through loud and clear.  She had spoken straight from her heart.

There were a couple of lessons in that.

I didn't take her to the park and do all those other things--just to hear a thank you. But I did do them for all the right reasons.

Do for the good in the doing--not for the reward.

And, learn to hear gratitude, rather than listening for "thanks".

Nearly two decades before that, my brother was visiting from California along with his wife and three young sons.

We all squeezed around the dinner table one evening,  (11 of us) and my husband called out their middle child to say grace. I think he was probably all of 4 years old at the time, and I suspect he might  never have done this before.  No pressure. :-)

He started out by thanking God for the food.  This went on for a bit, as he mentioned each food served.  And then he thanked God for the table.  And then he was thankful for  his plate, and then the fork, and the  knife, and the spoon.  His voice got a little sing-songy as he lifted his eyes searching for inspiration. I think he even thanked God for my mom's little dog.

His parents then removed him from further grace detail.

The lesson I learned from that? So obvious. Be grateful for the little things...they can make all the difference.  Imagine dinner with no fork, no plate, no spoon, no table... no food...

Sometimes kids have it all figured out. :-)

Happy Thanksgiving to all who celebrate it! <3

Six Sentence Sunday: November 18, 2012

Six Sentence Sunday is a bloghop--and one of the friendliest. Participants post six sentences of their writing, then the fun begins. Readers hop from blog to blog, sharing opinions, critiques and encouragement.  We know what a solitary pursuit writing can be--and Six Sentence Sunday is a great way to meet other writers, and take a break from our solitude. Complete rules and a sign up form are at the site here.

Returning to my WIP, ATNS.  A snippet from a dream sequence. Dhurstan Of Rialt, friend of Cuylrh since childhood, is half drunk and on a tirade about the woman (main character, Marissa) from a world called Earth, who is bringing his best friend to his knees.  This scene happens shortly after Marissa rejected Cuylrh's overtures. This is in Cuylrh's POV.

“You should dump her off at the next station, or better yet, just leave her here when we go.  What good is she?"  He pointed the direction of the lake, his body swaying and spit flying from his mouth as he raged. "She doesn’t cook, she won't wash our clothes, and the worst thing of all is that her body isn’t doing anything to satisfy even a one of us. Giver above! She should at least be trying to satisfy us...all of us; she’s no different than any other woman we’ve shared on this journey!”

Ain't this guy a peach?  There might be more to Dhurstan's motivation than the best interest of his friend.

Let me have it. :-) Comments, suggestions, criticisms? All much appreciated. 

Please visit the other Sunday sixers here:  sixsunday.com

Dreams of Leonids

I saw Leonids fall,                                               

across the sky
above my dream,

last night in velvet darkness.

Viewed from an unknown place,

surrounded in peace,

Halcyon days meandered--

like two weeks of calm,

framed in blessed silence.

My heart raced; words would not come.

Only tears.

Stars cascaded from hope,
forgiveness,
kindness and love,

while the kingfisher's nest floated...

And when I woke

the sand beckoned,

with a place to bury my eyes...

Copyright 2012 Teresa Cypher

Six Sentence Sunday: November 11, 2012

 

Six Sentence Sunday is a bloghop--and one of the friendliest. Participants post six sentences of their writing, then the fun begins. Readers hop from blog to blog, sharing opinions, critiques and encouragement.  We know what a solitary pursuit writing can be--and Six Sentence Sunday is a great way to meet other writers, and take a break from our solitude. Complete rules and a sign up form are at the site here.

Returning to my WIP, ATNS.  A snippet from a dream sequence. Cuylrh, the man who has taken Marissa under his wing, his original intent to teach her the language and what she'll need to know to survive in the Rialtan Empire, is struggling to remain emotionally detached. 
 
"He surveyed her from head to toe, her clean hair braided in a manner showing deference to the Giver above, and her body tucked into a baggy, white shirt and tight, black pants meant to help her blend in with his group. Who was he kidding?  As if she could blend in.  She was...anything but Rialtan.   It didn’t matter what she wore; she stood out like an exquisite flower in a field of dry grass." 

 All comments, opinions, criticisms, greatly appreciated and graciously acknowledged.  Thanks for visiting, and have a wonderful week, all. :-)