Thanksgiving is the easiest of holidays, a favourite sweater thrown over the shoulders in case of a chill on the trail.
Little is asked of us but a child’s exercise: count your blessings.
Walk a while with someone loveable.
Reach a hand out and share the harvest.
If so inclined, make a pie.
Bring reinforcements if needed.
While you’re in the kitchen, rolling, chopping, sprinkling, basting… have a listen to one of this household’s favourites: the definitive debate between two gifted comedians: Which is king? Pie or Cake?
Those guys are hilarious. I’ve got to invite them both here for a taste testing.
I’m grateful for laughter, and for the funny guy in this house who loves pie and cake.
Malala wins the Nobel. I’m grateful for unimaginable courage.
The city I call home is about to elect a new mayor. I’m grateful for democracy. Together, maybe we can build a beautiful city.
The young adults in my midst are quickly outsmarting me. I am grateful for evolution, and hugs that never change.
I get to share a table this weekend with four generations. I’m grateful for expanding the family table.
A stupid injury is on the mend. While I wait, I have my hands. I’m grateful for purpose, and creative helpers who make every project a wild adventure.
Think of it? A holiday free of mania. Just pie and thanks.
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More on Malala here.