Feeling what I learned to say so long ago

It has been said that the fundamental spiritual impulse in human beings is to look upon a sunset or a landscape, a raging thunderstorm or a night sky, and be overcome with awe and wonder, and say nothing. But I’m not so sure. I think, perhaps, a yet more basic spiritual impulse is to look upon a rainbow or a flower, a new morning or a new baby, and say thank you.

Maybe it’s just because I’m almost 60, becoming, as the Bible says, “full of years”, but Thanksgiving is getting to be one of my favourite days. When I was a child everything was grace and wonder. Things were done for me, but I hardly noticed because it had always been that way. I learned to say thank you long before I learned to feel it. And Thanksgiving was just another day you had to cover off on the way to Christmas. And, of course, we all knew what Christmas was about.

Then came the years of work and worry, so much responsibility, running every minute just to stay in the same place. There were many times, of course, when I was thankful, but mostly I was overcome with all the things I had to do.

But lately things are different. I’m no longer overwhelmed with little mouths to feed, little bodies to clothe, little hearts and minds to guard. And I often find myself reflecting on how many of the things that blessed my life were always done by others; how few were ever done by me.

About 16 months ago I met a little girl named Magdalene Eloise; we call her Maggie. And I think she has something to do with this change that’s overtaking my life. As her grampa I’m helping to teach her to say thank you, and I think she’s helping to teach me to feel it.

I wrote her a little poem just after she was born, and I’d like to share it with you.

God’s Goodness to Me

by Dan Colborne

My life is composed of so many good things,

An assortment of which I will list.

Generally true, though I’m sure you will notice,

Dozens of things that I’ve missed:

Apples and cantaloups, lemons and pears,

Linguine, and all kinds of pasta,

Elephants, tortoises, lions and bears,

Nintendo and pool and canasta.

Each day they come fasta and fasta.

Even as I’m getting older and older

Lists of good things keep on growing.

Often, in glancing back over my shoulder,

I gasp at the train that I’m towing,

Simply amazed how the goodness of God,

Every new generation, keeps flowing.