Blessings Where You Find Them


There’s a scene in the movie “The Milagro Bean Field Wars” where elderly Amarante  wakes up, looks in the mirror, and says “Thank you, God, for giving me another day.”  I’ve decided to adopt that attitude, to make a conscious effort at thankfulness and to find something good in each day, some blessing.

It doesn’t have to be something big.  Yesterday, at dusk, a stray beam of sunlight cut through the leafy canopy of the maple in our side yard, SPEARED a day lily, and turned it incandescent.  It was brilliant, like a flame.  I’d never seen anything like it.

Today, what blessings have I found (beyond the huge one of waking up)?  There’s an awful lot of birdsong going on, much more than usual.  I watched a little sparrow figure out how to open (and eat) a dead dragonfly.  My old dog managed his quarter-mile walk in good spirits.  The humidity is gone!  (Or lessened, at least.)  I have a wonderful black cat curled up on my bed, and a tortie downstairs on the couch.  My good friend Nina is coming for a visit from the Cape.  I’m healthy.  There have been no emergency phone calls from my parents, or the friend who was in the E.R. earlier this week.

And it’s only 11:10 am!

You don’t have to believe in a God/Goddess/Higher Power to be grateful for your life and the blessings you find there.  Gratitude comes from within.  Likewise the ability to acknowledge it and appreciate it.

As for those blessings, like I said, they don’t have to be earth-quaking events.  An act of kindness from (or to) a stranger.  A smile.  The light in an old dog’s eyes or the glint of sunlight on water.

Look for them.  Take a second in your harried day to appreciate what you see and find.  Enlarge your world with small joys.  You’ll be amazed.

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About Melissa Crandall

Longer ago than I care to admit--although I will--I cut my writing teeth on fanzines and media tie-in novels. Since then, I've moved on to narrative nonfiction, speculative fiction, and essays. I write to explore and understand the world around me, the things I see and experience nearby or from a distance. If I shake myself up, cool. If I shake you up, even better. Not gratuitously--what's the point in that?--but to set what I know, or think I know, on end and realize, "Well, doesn't it look different from this side!" My work is neither sexually explicit nor graphically violent. Let's face it - your imaginations will come up with things far worse than anything I could write, no matter how descriptive. Besides, it's just not my thing. I live in Connecticut with my supportive husband Ed, a cat named Ruby who might just think she's a dog, and an epileptic Australian shepherd named Holly who isn't quite certain anymore who she is, except she knows she loves her mommy.
This entry was posted in Connecticut, Essays, Gratitude, love, Melissa Crandall, Writer, Writing and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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