This is not me. I didn’t write this. This is one of those silly, annoying email blasts we all get a thousand of a day that clog up our inbox and threaten us with misfortune and impotence and leprosy and DEATH! if we don’t send it to 15 of our soon-to-be former friends. This one is the same, but also different. This one is the one in a thousand that hit home. I didn’t send it to 15 of my friends; instead I posted it here. Not to avoid misfortune and impotence and leprosy and DEATH!, but to maybe make one or two of you think, just a little bit.
Again, this is not me. I didn’t write this. I don’t even know who wrote it because the author didn’t take credit. I just wanted you to read it.
I am Thankful :
For the wife who says it’s hot dogs tonight because she is home with me, and not out with someone else.
For the husband who is on the sofa watching sports because he is home with me and not out with someone else.
For the teenager who is complaining about doing dishes because it means she is at home, not on the streets.
For the taxes I pay because it means I am employed.
For the mess to clean after a party because it means I have been surrounded by friends.
For the clothes that fit a little too snug because it means I have enough to eat.
For the shadow that watches me work because it means I am out in the sunshine.
For a lawn that needs mowing, windows that need cleaning and gutters that need fixing because it means I have a home.
For all the complaining I hear about the government because it means we have freedom of speech.
For the parking spot I find at the far end of the lot because it means I am capable of walking and I have been blessed with transportation.
For my huge heating bill because it means I am warm.
For the lady behind me in line who is talking too loudly because it means I can hear.
For the pile of laundry and ironing because it means I have clothing to wear.
For weariness and aching muscles at the end of the day because it means I have been capable of working hard.
For the alarm that goes off in the early morning hours because it means that I am alive.