Sincerely giving thanks not only helps us recognize our blessings, but it also unlocks the doors of heaven and helps us feel God’s love. (Thomas S. Monson)
At times I reflect on how difficult it is to bring a newborn into this world. They are without a doubt a lot of work, demanding sleepless nights and a complete disregard for hygiene. And yet, they are also the source of boundless joy for many years and on into eternity.
A little song from my childhood often winds its ways into my thoughts as I think of my parents and siblings, my own sweetheart, and our grown children and their families.
I thank thee, dear Father in heaven above, For thy goodness and mercy, thy kindness and love.
I thank thee for home, friends, and parents so dear, And for ev’ry blessing that I enjoy here.
Life is not always roses and sunshine and an attitude of gratitude must be carefully cultivated to have a rich and glorious life. I share with you an account of one family which was able to find blessings in the midst of serious challenges. This is a personal story written by Canadian writer H. Gordon Green.
Gordon wrote of his childhood on a farm in Canada and the Thanksgiving he remembered most thankfully was the year they seemed to have nothing for which to be grateful.
The year started off well: they had leftover hay, lots of seed, four litters of pigs, and their father had a little money set aside so that someday he could afford to buy a hay loader—a wonderful machine most farmers just dreamed of owning. It was also the year that electricity came to their town—although not to them because they couldn’t afford it.
One night when Gordon’s mother was doing her big wash, his father stepped in and took his turn over the washboard and asked his wife to rest and do her knitting. He said, “You spend more time doing the wash than sleeping. Do you think we should break down and get electricity?” Although elated at the prospect, she shed a tear or two as she thought of the hay loader that wouldn’t be bought.
So the electrical line went up their lane that year. Although it was nothing fancy, they acquired a washing machine that worked all day by itself and brilliant lightbulbs that dangled from each ceiling. There were no more lamps to fill with oil, no more wicks to cut, no more sooty chimneys to wash. The lamps went quietly off to the attic.
The coming of electricity to their farm was almost the last good thing that happened to them that year. Just as their crops were starting to come through the ground, the rains started. When the water finally receded, there wasn’t a plant left anywhere. They planted again, but more rains beat the crops into the earth. Their potatoes rotted in the mud. They sold a couple of cows and all the pigs and other livestock they had intended to keep, getting very low prices for them because everybody else had to do the same thing. All they harvested that year was a patch of turnips which had somehow weathered the storms.
Then it was Thanksgiving again. Their mother said, “Maybe we’d better forget it this year. We haven’t even got a goose left.”
On Thanksgiving morning, however, Gordon’s father showed up with a jackrabbit and asked his wife to cook it. Grudgingly she started the job, indicating it would take a long time to cook that tough old thing. When it was finally on the table with some of the turnips that had survived, the children refused to eat. Gordon’s mother cried, and then his father did a strange thing. He went up to the attic, got an oil lamp, took it back to the table, and lighted it. He told the children to turn out the electric lights. When there was only the lamp again, they could hardly believe that it had been that dark before. They wondered how they had ever seen anything without the bright lights made possible by electricity.
The food was blessed, and everyone ate. When dinner was over, they all sat quietly. Wrote Gordon:
“In the humble dimness of the old lamp we were beginning to see clearly again. …
“It [was] a lovely meal. The jack rabbit tasted like turkey and the turnips were the mildest we could recall. …
“… Our home … , for all its want, was so rich to us.”
In addition to all else for which we are grateful, may we ever reflect on our gratitude for our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. His glorious gospel provides answers to life’s greatest questions: Where did we come from? Why are we here? Where do our spirits go when we die? His gospel brings to those who live in darkness the light of divine truth. (Thomas S. Monson)
(H. Gordon Green, “The Thanksgiving I Don’t Forget,” Reader’s Digest, Nov. 1956)
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