This morning it took a pep talk to roll out of bed. I had awakened earlier when Hubby was changing into work clothes and packing the lunch I made him last night. I lay there, motionless, for a while, hearing him set the house alarm, turn his key in the lock, and then start up his truck engine, becoming progressively fainter as he drove away. All of this long before the sun was up.
I readjusted under the covers, heard the beginning of rain start to pitter-patter outside. My mind drifted in and out of sleep until there were no more excuses. It was time to start the day.
As I prepared to say my morning prayers I was struck with the importance of being grateful for the little things–things we, no doubt, appreciate–but too often dismiss.
I sat up in my warm bed and was grateful for my warm bed. I listened to the rain outside and was grateful for our dry house to protect us from the rain, but still grateful for the rain. I shuffled to the kitchen in feet wrapped in cozy socks and was grateful to have cozy socks. I took a carton of eggs out of the refrigerator, put bread in the toaster, and was grateful for the eggs and bread. I needed no assistance. I was grateful for a healthy mind and body.
Our 2 year old kitty, Maggie May, as per our morning ritual, announced her entrance with a meow and came trotting into the kitchen. She purred approvingly each time I stroked her back. I gave her some food and was grateful for the unconditional love of this funny little cat.
Seeing Hubby’s old work boots in a corner I was grateful for him, his love, his friendship, his companionship, his wisdom, his sense of responsibility to provide, his work ethic, and his job.
Looking inside the refrigerator I surveyed the ingredients for tonight’s dinner, grateful that we never go hungry, grateful we do not even know the feeling of true hunger, grateful that we even have a refrigerator. When our old one died a few weeks ago, getting a new one was never a matter of if, only a matter of when.
These little things. A bed, a roof, socks, eggs, a fridge, an affectionate pet, a devoted husband. They translate to warmth, shelter, fresh food, and love. These are not little things.