A sense of dread overwhelms me on the eve of America’s first coronation. I don’t know what lies ahead, but I do know that I am afraid. In a conscious effort to be grateful for the small things that can brighten such moments, I’ll share with you something that happened this morning.
My day began, as usual, with the aroma of freshly-brewed coffee. I padded to the kitchen, grabbed one of my favorite mugs, and filled it to the brim. When I lifted the cup from the countertop, I heard a faint cracking noise. I set it down and checked the joint where the handle attaches. It looked fine, but I tried to wiggle it, just to be sure. It felt firm.
When I picked up the mug again, it made another little noise. Supporting the vessel by its base, I carried it to a better-lit area and re-inspected. I saw two tiny, hairline fractures. That won’t hold up long, I thought, and dumped the coffee into a fresh container.
“How lucky I am,” I said to my husband. “That could have snapped off in my hand, crashed to the floor, and shattered into a gazillion pieces. The sharp edges might have cut me and the hot liquid could have burned me.”
Happy to have avoided a big mess to clean up and the chance that our dogs might have wandered in and got into it, I felt thankful for the way things happened and less bummed about losing a gift I have treasured for decades.
I’m glad I’m getting a jump on being more aware of small blessings. Larger ones may become increasingly scarce.
#thankful #thelittlethings #gratitude #hopingforthebest
Photo by Barry Benson
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I like this. I am trying every time I complain to think of something that I can be grateful for. Small things we take for granted should be appreciated.