small heart, much gratitude
small heart, much gratitude

small heart, much gratitude

As we enter the week of of my favorite holiday, I thought I would return to some very old posts and be reminded of the spirit of the season.

Piglet noticed that even though he had a Very Small Heart, it could hold a rather large amount of Gratitude.

~A.A. Milne, Winnie the Pooh

It is Thanksgiving morning, and I am up earlier than anticipated thanks to cheerful dogs who were ready to play.  The house is quiet as my daughter and her friend, Sleep, make up for lost time in her cozy bed.  The dogs and I sit on the couch and watch the sun sparkle on top of the snow crystals that remain from yesterday’s first dusting of the season.  I watch the steam of my hot green tea curl and rise then kiss the window.  The morning birds have begun feeding outside the kitchen and sing brightly, celebrating sunshine and suet.

Some days, my heart is so filled with gratitude that it wells up into my throat and feels like I am going to burst.  Yes, there are days like yesterday when my car dies in my driveway, the dishwasher goes on the fritz, and an unruly squirrel tears up my bird feeders.  And yet, after the window of frustration has passed, I realize that I’m fortunate to have neighbors who loan me a vehicle, running water so that I can wash the dishes, and enough food to share with squirrels and birds alike.

So this morning, I lift up a prayer of thanksgiving to the Creator for the simple things like kind people, birdsong, and quiet moments–things that make our very small hearts swell with gratitude.


One comment

  1. Alice

    Love you, Cameron. Gratitude fills my heart every morning when I awake, throughout my day and in my evening prayers. Even in the face of challenges with aging bodies, we are blessed and happy. This morning as I watched citizens from Paradise, California see the loss of everything they worked for, their gratitude for their lives inspired me to always focus on the important things in our lives.
    The pain of their losses overwhelms me. Thanks for your beautiful writing.

Leave a Reply to Alice Cancel reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

%d bloggers like this: