The Art of Saying Thanks.

A wee selfie.

The World is Mine.

Today upon the bus I saw a lovely lass with golden hair,

I envied her so happy did she seem, I wished I was so fair.

She rose to leave and hobbled down the aisle.

She had one foot and owned a crutch

She passed me with a smile.

Forgive my whine I have two feet,

The whole wide world is mine.

I stopped along the way to buy some sweets,

The lad who served had such a charm.

He seemed to radiate good cheer, his manner so kind and warm.

“It is nice to deal with you,” I said,

“Such courtesy I seldom find.”

He turned, “oh thank you, sir.”

I saw that he was blind.

Forgive my whine, I have two eyes.

The whole wide world is mine.

Walking down the way I saw a child with eyes so blue.

He stood and watched the others play.

Seemed not to know just what to do.

Why don’t you join the others, do not fear?

He looked ahead and never a word, I knew he could not hear.

Forgive my whine, I have two ears.

The whole wide world is mine.

With feet to take me where I go.

Eyes to see the sunsets glow.

Ears to hear what I would know.

I'm blessed indeed, the world is mine.

Forgive me when I whine.

How easy it is to get up each day get washed and dressed and head out to enjoy the world around me. I am so grateful that this is for me the case. It is sad when we see how others take such things for granted and day in and out spoil the beauty all around. No sense of either gratitude or thankfulness.

I can say from personal experience that so often people accept help that is given freely and later can pass you by without a nod or a word. Maybe they would rather I had not known they needed the help, but never a simple thanks.

A lecturer I once had as a great friend told about a ministerial student, who was part of a life-saving squad. A ship went aground on the shore, and the student waded again and again into the frigid waters to rescue 17 passengers. In the process, his health was permanently damaged. 

Some years later at his funeral, it was noted that not one of the people he rescued ever thanked him.

Oh, how simple it is to just take things for granted.

In Budapest, a man goes to the rabbi and complains, "Life is unbearable. There are nine of us living in one room. What can I do?"

  

The rabbi answers, "Take your goat into the room with you."  The man is incredulous, but the rabbi insists. "Do as I say and come back in a week." 

A week later the man comes back looking more distraught than before.  "We cannot stand it," he tells the rabbi. "The goat is filthy." 

The rabbi then tells him, "Go home and let the goat out. And come back in a week." 

A radiant man returns to the rabbi a week later, exclaiming, "Life is beautiful. We enjoy every minute of it now that there's no goat -- only the nine of us." 

I remember while I was a minister preaching on the story of the ten lepers helped by Jesus. One of the ten came and sought out Jesus and thanked him for his help.

Later I wondered about the other nine, what happened to them? I speculated.

One waited to see if the help was real.

One waited to see if it would last.

One said he would see Jesus later but never did.

One decided that he had never had leprosy so had never needed help.

One said he would have got well anyway.

One gave the glory to the priests.

One said, "O, well, Jesus didn't really do anything."

One said, "Anyone could have done it."

One said, "I was already much improved."

Whatever happened to the art of saying thank you. It costs little, no, it costs nothing.

Have a great day and thank you for taking time to read my words.