When I was on a double family RV trip to Big Sur this last Spring Break, when we arrived at our campground, a young man who was helping us set up the two large rigs dropped his campground manifesto on me, "There are two kinds of people. One who wakes up and says 'Good Morning, God' and the other who says 'Good God, Morning?'"
I wake up every day with the belief in the power of a new day and beginning, the belief that good can come from the efforts I put into the day.
For me, everyday is Thanksgiving, for as soon as I get my ego out of the way and honestly look at the gratitude I have in my heart for those who have made my life so full and meaningful...then my day is off to a great start... I know... sounds a bit "corny" after all I am now 51 but the trivial things do seem to pass me by now as I get older. Today, as I was driving my 13-year-old son home, we passed Wendell Brown, a homeless Veteran who sells poems on the street corner in Brentwood. I have read so many over the years and have always appreciated them and him, for telling his truth in a poem for making me think about who I am.
There was an Arrested Development song, "Mr. Wendell," that I always thought was about him, his dispensing wisdom on the street, while those around him searched for theirs in their cars, homes, clothes, choices. I hope that song was about him. I wish I could write a song for Mr. Wendell Brown this Thanksgiving day. On our way home, my son, Tom, read me the poem we had been handed, that we bought with our donation. I enclose it below. It is my Thanksgiving blog. It is written by Wendell Brown, a Vietnam Veteran whose story I've linked to. Happy Thanksgiving. Make Change. Wake Up!
I'm thankful for Thanksgiving Day
Because it brings to mind
The gifts I've had along the way
And blessings, every kind.
I'm thankful that I live my life
In this great land of ours.
That I've not had to give my life,
And sleep beneath the flowers.
Much thanks must go to all who fought
To keep us safe and free.
Their sacrifice has dearly bought
Our peace and liberty.
We should remember all who came
Before us through the years
They kept our country much the same
By action, sweat and tears.
Not ever does a day go by
That I forget my folks.
My mother baking apple pie,
My sister with her jokes.
My dad was like a magistrate,
Who ruled on each dispute.
The claims must all be free from hate.
He'd grant or he'd refute.
I owe a debt of gratitude
To teachers that I've had.
They helped to shape my attitude
And spanked when I was bad.
The Bible says Our Father, God
Will give us daily bread,
But I would not believe it odd
If two days passed instead.
There are so very many things
We should be thankful for.
It's good we have a day which brings
God's harvest to our door.
. . . . . Turkey and Pumpkin Pie . . . . .
. . . . . . . . And Friendship . . . . . . . . .