I Am a Witness

[By the way, I've had this annoying eyelash or something in my eye for the last four hours.  I plan on being really thankful when I finally get that out.]

Now, let me tell you what I witnessed.

I witnessed such an act of loving friendship at once ridiculously comical and sweetly moving, that I didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

Thank you for laughter and tears.

My friend Betty is in the hospital awaiting back surgery.  Betty is the hearth around which my friends gather each day at lunch.  Quite literally, we sit around her table in a half-circle, while she radiates caring, loving advice and outrageous humor.  The first seat on Betty's right is reserved for Cindy.  It has been this way for 30 years.

Thank you for consistency.

When Cindy was hired as a brand-spanking-new [no spanking] Special Education teacher at age 25, she hired Betty as her Special Ed Aide.  They have been best friends ever since.  The stories they share of their lifelong friendship make us laugh out loud or leave us weepy.  I have had the great privilege of coming to this communion table, where all are welcome, for only the past few years, but they have changed my life.  [I have already written of the time Cindy helped me when my daughter Lindsey was being bullied.]

Thank you for good advice and bad jokes.

But Betty is in the hospital.  She had one back surgery over the summer [she purposely scheduled her back surgery for summer vacation so she wouldn't miss working with Cindy and the students in Fall].  Now the pain of two new ruptured disks has her on her back!  I visited Betty yesterday after school.  Cindy arrived ahead of me.  Cindy was seated at her side when I got there.  Betty was her feisty self.

Thank you for feisty.

At the end of the visit, Cindy got up to kiss Betty good-bye.  Well, there was a table in the way and a cane involved.  Cindy made every effort to lean in, while Betty did all she could to pull up closer despite her bad back.  No good-bye kiss was ever so clumsy and so lovingly bestowed.  It had every one of their thirty years together tied up in it.  And it was just as funny as one of Betty's stories.  I was a witness.

Thank you, Cindy and Betty, for welcoming me into your lives.

Thank you, God, for great role models of kindness and friendship.  Thank you for Cindy and Betty.

[Please keep Betty in your prayers.  Thank you.]

Home Sweet Home

I love my family.  I love my husband, Drew.  I love my daughters, Jeannette and Lindsey.  You may yawn and accuse me of stating the obvious.

Thank you for many opportunities to state the obvious.

Most days are drama free in the Woerner household.  Pretty normal stuff.

• Drew pours me a cup of coffee.  [Oh, how nice]
• Jeannette helps prepare dinner.  [That was so sweet]
• Lindsey does her homework.  [So responsible]

I didn't have to ask, and they didn't complain.  We just like each other and show it in the little things we do every day.  We won't be headlining any reality tv show until it becomes popular to be nice.

Thank you for little ordinary acts of kindness.

I'm thankful, so thankful that my family is nice, boringly so.  I don't take our happiness together for granted.  I feel so blessed.

Thank you for boring.

This is not to say that we don't have our crises and issues.  We certainly do.  That comes with being so ordinarily normal.  We've got a lifetime pass to the emotional roller coaster called Life.  But with all the ups and downs of happy and sad that comes with news good and bad, our love gyroscope keeps us balanced.

Thank you for fast roller coasters and slow, smooth endings.

I just love my family.  Love love love love love.

Thank you, Drew for cups of coffee on Saturday mornings and glasses of wine on a Monday evening.  Thank you, Jeannette, for emptying the dishwasher and vacuuming the carpet.  Thank you, Lindsey, for cleaning your room.  Thank you, God, for Drew, Jeannette, and Lindsey.

Thanks Quick and Easy

Date:  1/27/13

Thankful for:

• Cooking a delicious meal this week with Jeannette's help
• Lindsey successfully auditioning for the Hip Hop competition dance number
• Playing Wii Fit with my daughters and getting silly

Thanks to:

• Katie Kevorkian for scheduling the guest speaker from Women against Gun Violence
• Josh for sharing his story as a 6-year-old victim of gun violence at North Valley Jewish Community Center in Granada Hills in 1999
• Everyone who came to the meeting to start a discussion on reasonable gun control and gun safety

Thanks Income:

• Smiles and hugs, plus a thank-you card addressed to me!

Subtotal:  I still owe many many people many many thanks.

Multiple Personalities Give Thanks

So, OCD Denise inside me insists that I follow the stats on my blog dashboard.  Last month I didn't know "stats," "blog," and "dashboard" could be used in a single sentence.

Thank you for continued growth and expanded understanding.

Thirteen-year-old Denise inside me worries, "What if they don't like me?" Old Denise says, "whatever."

Thank you for wisdom often masquerading as sarcasm.

Competitive Denise inside me says, "Wow!  Look how many views the post with the pie chart has gotten!" [43].  OCD Denise frets, "Why can't the number of views be the same for all the posts?"

Thank you for balance in an out of balance world.

Motivated Denise says, "Okay, let's get blogging.  If we miss a day, our readers will lose interest."  Lazy Denise insists, "No one will notice, trust me."

Thank you for knowing how to punctuate dialogue.

Writer Denise inside me wonders, "What do my readers want?"  Competitive Denise answers, "Clearly, it's PIE CHARTS!"  And OCD Denise chimes in, "That's true--just look at the stats!"

Thank you for the voices in my head, for I am never alone.

Well, I don't have any pie charts, today.  I will post a photo I took this afternoon on my walk, however.

I'm thankful for this:  A lovely January walk along Summit-to-Summit Rd. with my husband.  A little rain, a little sunshine, a lot of green.  All the voices are hushed and awed.  Together we praise God.

Thank you, God, for rain and the days after.

By the Numbers

 24 January
 23 Blog posts counting this one
 18 Thank you cards written
 15 Thank you cards delivered
 13 Cards still to write
   7 Days left in January
   4 Hugs received
   1 Thank you card addressed to me! Sweet

Thank you for progress

 11 More months to go in 2013

Thank you for starting over

I'm thankful for time.  In a day, sadness can turn to joy, pain to relief.  Chaos can turn to calm, despair to hope.  The whole world turns around in a day, why not a life?  Each day is brand new.  You wake up in the morning and this brand new day is yours to unwrap.

Thank you for mornings

Dream Team

I have such a neat stack of Thank You cards now.  I am working my way through my list, playing catch up.  After today, I have eight days to complete 15 cards.  Are you working out the numbers, my mathophiles?

Thank you for division.

Looking at my list, I have decided to share with you a quick outline of a few of the amazing, wonderful women to whom I owe a debt of gratitude.  Alphabetical order is safest--not that any of these women would care about competing for top billing; there is not one diva among them.  Every one of them deserves an entire chapter of praise and thanks for all the work they do.  This is just a sampling.

Thank you for bulleted lists.

• Amybeth.  Organizes restaurant fundraisers, Operation Christmas Child mission, beach clean-ups, Children's Christmas Mart, and movie nights, among other things.  Have you enjoyed NUMC Eat Out Night at Maria's Italian Kitchen?  Drop Amybeth a thank you card.

• Jenifer.  Publishes "The Methodist" Newsletter so efficiently, I never have to actually submit any announcements for the events I'm organizing; it's like she reads my mind!  Do you know what's happening at church because you read it in "The Methodist"?  Thank Jenifer.

• Katie.  Organizes the events and activities for children, families, and youth at NUMC. She leads the team behind our Sunday School programming and singlehandedly planned our Children's and Families' Christmas Eve Service.  Did you wear donkey ears or a shepherd hat on Christmas Eve?  Blame Katie (oops, I mean "thank").

• Lacey.  Runs an architectural landscape business, teaches infant swim lessons, manages her son's soccer team, and volunteers on all children's and youth events at church, including Sunday School.  Did you enjoy the Dinner & Silent Auction?  Chances are, Lacey and her family were serving you.  Thank you, Lacey, for reminding me to say "no" sometimes.

• Nancy.  Super supporter of Sunday School and Seniors.  As a creative crafter, she goes out of her way to prepare children's art projects that reinforce the Bible stories.  Plus, she started the traveling angels program to provide needed transportation to our stranded members.  Do your children know the stories of Jesus?  Thank you, Nancy.

• Sally.  Chancel Choir member, storyteller, Bell Choir member, grief support counselor, Healing Hands practitioner, nature lover, hiker, and volunteer for Family Ministries and Preschool programs.  She is a constant source of cheer and inspiration.  Thank you, Sally.

• Tandy.  Okay, well, Tandy is a force of nature. Artist, web-designer, backpacker, athlete, Girl Scout leader, and more.  She has her talented, creative hands in almost everything happening at NUMC.  She contributes time and muscle to Mission Rebuild at North Valley Caring Services, Operation Christmas Child, Children's Christmas Mart, Operation Gratitude, and the Rose Parade among so many other worthwhile programs.  Just go thank Tandy.   

As I attempt to describe the great work of these women, I'm struck by how much they do and how much more they do that I don't know about.  This is just the tip of the iceberg.  Their accomplishments are many, and I fall far short of doing them justice.  But you can see why I wrote them thank you cards.  If they've done something for you, or inspired you in some way, add them to your list.

Thank you, God, for Amybeth, Jenifer, Lacey, Katie, Nancy, Sally, and Tandy. 

Playing Catch (Up)

January has 31 days.  It's January 22.  Theoretically, I should have written 22 thank you notes by now.

Thank you for calendars.

Yeah, I have fallen behind.  I'm staying on top of the blogging.  I have little thankful moments during each day.  I've written thank you notes each week and delivered them.  It's confession time.  I have not written 22 cards.

Thank you for truth.

In fact, I've written only 12.  Gah!  YES, IT'S THAT BAD!  Just twelve tidy check marks on my list of names of people to thank.  [hanging head shamefully]  I have just nine days left in this month and nineteen cards to write.  This is where you breathe a sigh of relief as you discover you aren't nearly as far behind in your thank-yous as I am.  

You're welcome.

It's okay, though.  I can double up or triple up each day between now and the 31st.  I have a list of 19 names that will occupy me until month's end.  I'm not worried about February.  I will surely be adding names to the list between now and the first of next month.  My wonderful friends are not going to stop doing what they do.  People are going to go on being helpful and doing good work.

Thank you for things you can trust.

So, I'll catch up.  'k bye.

Hallmark Moments

In the days before the explosion of cable television programming, before there were hundreds of channels and everything [and nothing] to watch, viewing choices were limited.  But I think to some degree the few existing networks were working harder in the early years to prove the medium's worth.

Thank you for television.  NOT for reality T.V.

At Christmas time, we could especially look forward every year to a new sentimental holiday drama sponsored by Hallmark Greeting Cards.  Christmas was greeting card season, and Hallmark cornered the market on cards.  America was watching, and we were not disappointed.  Quality Hallmark Hall of Fame programs included "The Homecoming," which later inspired the long-running series "The Waltons."

Thank you for John Boy.

But what I really remember?  The commercials.  How is it that with Christmas coming and the family gathered around the television [I sat on the floor because it was my job to adjust the knob and focus the picture] and some sentimental holiday heartbreak being played out in our living room, it was the commercials for the Christmas cards that made me cry?  EVery time!

 Thank you for remote control.

There was always some rosy-cheeked child placing a carefully-selected card in some special spot to surprise the big brother in uniform who just managed to make it home late Christmas Eve.  Am I right?  You've seen that commercial?  The Walton family patriarch is lost in the snow on Walton's Mountain, chopping trees to earn money to buy shoes for his seven barefoot children, and I'm crying over the commercial.

Thank you for brilliant marketing.

So, why do I bring this up now?  Today, I felt like that rosy-cheeked child with the card.  I had three thank-you cards in my hand--written, addressed, and sealed--ready to be delivered.  I've already told you about two of them, Joan and Freddie Lu.  The church office was empty.  I tucked Joan's card into her mail box.  The choir room was empty.  I placed Freddie Lu's card in her music folder.  [Thank you, Patty, for suggesting it.]  And I handed Tandy's thank-you card to her with a hug.

I learned today that I'd understood the Hallmark commercials all wrong.  The focus was always how happy the recipient was, how loved he or she felt upon opening the card.  When you care enough to send the very best.  I felt so much happier giving those cards than I ever imagined.  The child leaving the card out for big brother was just as excited as big brother was at finding it.

So.  The rewards begin to surface.  This could be awesome.  Let's do this some more.

Thank you for the joy that comes with giving.  

No Coincidences

[Hey, according to the Blogger dashboard, someone was viewing my blog at 2:00 a.m.  Um, thanks, but GO TO BED!  My thoughts on thankfulness, however pithy or poignant, are not worth staying up all night.]

And now, today's thoughts...

I don't believe in coincidences.

I once sat behind the steering wheel at a red light with a Diet Coke in my hand.  I was anxious to go and was ready to accelerate as soon as the light turned green.  But at the last moment, just as the light changed, when I should have been rolling in to the intersection, I took a sip from the can.  As I sipped, a bus sped past me across the intersection into the lane where I was supposed to be.  That event, so many years ago, has stayed with me.

Thank you for Coca Cola.

Moments like this happen all the time.  Are you watching for them?  I remember one morning, grumbling about looking for my car keys when I needed to have left the house 5 minutes ago.  When I finally got on the road, I came upon a serious auto accident that happened just 5 minutes prior.  Have you ever had that that might've been me moment?

Thank you for lost keys.

Shut up.  The very thing you are complaining about may be quietly saving your life.  Slow down.  Being late for one thing may make you just in time for something wonderful.  "When the Lord closes a door, surely He opens a window" [is that from The Sound of Music, because I heard that in Julie Andrews' voice in my head].

Thank you for Julie Andrews, BTW.

Today was a good day.  Drew and I headed out for a hiking trail we've never tried.  But we got a much later start that we planned.  I was dressed for a much colder day than this turned out to be.  We took a different route on the way back to the car and ended up a mile downhill in the wrong direction.  Someone might complain about all this.  But I say the sun was higher in the sky for better light.  It's better to take off layers than not have enough of them.  That was an excellent uphill workout coming back.  

And it all came to this:  On the last half-mile of the trail, long after we'd planned to be driving back, we met Ellen and Stan Ferguson.  Stan is our former pastor, and Ellen and I hiked the entire Backbone Trail with Tandy and Sharon a couple years ago.  We haven't seen them in a while.  We drove past Stan's current church this morning, and Stan and Ellen were on my mind all along the trail.  And then there they were.

Thank you for running late, for wrong directions, for bumping into friends.  Thank you for no accidents.

Short Form 2.0: Thanks Made EZ

Date:  1/18/13

Thankful for:

• Beautiful performance by Arpa y Aulos (Harp & Flute) at Northridge United Methodist Church Friends of Music concert
• KitchenAid coffeemaker replacement carafe arrived safely
• Three-day weekend to enjoy morning coffee

Thanks to:

• Friends of Music committee for presenting such an awesome concert
• Barbara Stiles for laughing with me at the ticket sales table
• The Leverage Family for the delicious desserts and refreshments after the concert

Thanks Income:

• Surprise hugs and thanks from Joan [I didn't know she reads my blog]

Subtotal:  It's all good

Joan on the Job

Today I shall make good on my promise to tell you about one of the helpful, caring people on my list.  Her name is Joan.

If you know Northridge United Methodist Church, you know Joan.  [This is where I pause to check the church's website to find out just exactly what her job title is, because I know Joan but not her job title].  Joan is the Facilities Manager at NUMC.  I don't know exactly what her job description is, but "Do everything that needs doing to keep everything in the church office and facilities running smoothly" might come close.

I certainly don't appear on Joan's job description.  Nonetheless, Joan helps me.  So much.  All the time.  And I don't even work there.  I volunteer on some committees [oops, we call them teams], and Joan is always glad to assist me with the little details and tasks that need doing.  And every little thing she does makes my life easier.

I am not going to go on and on.  Joan is probably on a lot of people's thank-you lists.  If you know Joan, you probably owe her a thank-you note.  That's how helpful she is.

Thank you, Joan, for every little thing you do.  Thank you, God, for Joan.

Addendum:

I decided this thank you was too vague.  I thought it needed some specific detail for which I am grateful.  I don't want this to be some general Oh, Joan thank you for being you.  So here is my specific thank you.

Joan, thank you for making (that flier for me for that event my team was planning) x 50.  Also, thank you for (helping me find that thing I needed for that activity that was happening) x 100.

And that doesn't nearly cover it all.

System Upgrade

I'm one of those people who work best with a system.  I value efficiency but have latent tendencies toward the opposite.  Without some routine to fall back on, I fly from tangent to tangent and make very little forward progress.  So I make lists.  I prioritize them and divide them into categories.  Crossing things off the list is sooo goooood.

I jumped into blogging without a system, and after a brief honeymoon [Oh, isn't this fabulous fun!] panic struck.  A few days into it, I had to stop and take inventory.  I developed a budget and everything.

The system is flexible but offers some idea of what you, beloved reader, may expect.  It's a LIST!

Thank you for lists.

Sometimes I will:

• Be flippant [hee hee].
• Be sentimental [sigh].  
• Write about things I'm thankful for [e.g., brownies].  
• Write about people who deserve thanks [you, perhaps]. 
• Skip a day or two [$#!+ happens].
• Use italics and brackets [indiscriminately]. 
• Write a lot
• Write a little

Thank you for italics.

Now, I have another list--a list of names.  One of the first things I did in 2013 was open my brand new little book of everything I'm supposed to do and remember [I start a new one each year] and write a list of names of people I want to thank.  Some of those names already have a tidy little check mark next to them.  There are not as many check marks as I'd hoped.  

Also, there are not 365 names on the list, so, I'm like, okay, what about February?

Thank you for a never-ending supply of helpful, caring, generous  people.

Tomorrow, I will tell you about one of them.

Drive Time

Flashback:  Mother and daughter in the DMV giving high-fives, doing happy dances, and breathing great sighs of relief while the clerk hands over the Learner's Permit.  Fade to black.  Happy ending.  Yay.

Wake up!  I must've been dreaming if I thought the story ended there.  Now is when it gets ugly.

Today, I drove Lindsey to the parking lot of a seldom-used park and handed her the keys to the car for the first time.  Baby steps.  Learn the routine.  Seat belt.  Mirrors.  Ignition.

Thank you for empty parks on cold winter days.  Thank you for deep breaths.

Feel the brake pedal.  Release the safety brake.  Shift into drive.

Thank you for quiet moments of clarity when time stands still and my beating heart is all I hear.

Okay, take your foot off the brake.  Let's roll.

Thirty minutes later, she has driven a few slow laps around the parking lot and executed some right and left turns successfully.  I only had to grab the wheel once.  It wasn't perfect, but it wasn't awful.  I WAS slowing down.  It didn't feel any slower.

Thank you for no yelling.  Thank you for safety belts.

We can do more; we have time.  Do you want to drive more?
No I'm good.  I'm done.  I DROVE!
I SURVIVED!

Thank you for high fives all over again.

When you find yourself thinking, "Well, that went much better than I expected," that's a good time to give thanks.  When you arrive home after giving your daughter her first driving lesson, and you're thinking, "I would totally do that again," that's a good time to give thanks.

Thank you, Lindsey, for being such a good student.  Thank you, God, for Lindsey.

You've Got Potential

"Potential" was one of the 3rd grade vocabulary words this past week.  The definition in the students' glossary was "possibility."  I'm not sure I wholly agree.  Possibility suggests chance, and chance is sometimes just luck and timing--a gamble.  When someone says, "Well, anything's possible" we also hear the unspoken,  "but don't hold your breath."

Potential is more than luck and timing.  It begins with the word, potent.  Potency is power.  Potential, then, is what you have the power, strength, and ability to become.  Realizing potential requires energy, application, determination, and diligence.  It also helps to have someone first recognize in you the potential of which you may be unaware.  Or perhaps someone at the very least confirms what you've secretly suspected all along, "You can do this."

This brings us to today's thank you.  It's for Freddie Lu.

Years ago, when I finally got up the nerve to attend a Chancel Choir rehearsal, Christmas was coming, and I thought, "Oh boy, Christmas carols!"  My only experience reading music and singing SATB choral pieces had been in the spring musicals in high school [FYI:  "You Gotta Get a Gimmick" dressed as a stripper in Gypsy is not one that comes up on the Sunday Anthem rotation] and middle school Girls' Glee before that.  Welcome, welcome!  What part do you sing?  Not soprano.  Alto, then.  Sit next to Freddie Lu.

I found myself among professional singers and musicians.  These were choristers with years and years of experience and skill and knowledge.  I was pretty green.  Not only in the sense that I was fresh and inexperienced.  Nauseous, too, once my stomach caught up with what was racing through my brain:  "You can't do this."

Freddie Lu saw my potential.  She taught me in ways both subtle and not.  She sang a little more loudly and a little more in my direction, her finger on the alto line, coaxing with love, as we teachers do, the struggling student.  She helped me believe as she did, that I belonged.  After some time and much nurturing, she pushed me a step further.  "The Cherub Choir Director is moving away, and we're going to need a new one.  With your experience teaching young children, I think you would be a good Cherub Choir Director."  Tag, you're it.

I've been directing the choir of 3-7 year olds since then.  The Cherubs I directed that first year are in high school, now.  I still feel like I'm just playing at this.  I try to make it fun for the children.  But I also try to make it  look like they know what they're doing when they sing in front of the congregation on those special Sundays.  I still sweat it every time.  I don't want to let Freddie Lu down.

Is there someone in your life who believed in you?  Did he or she know you would be great at something before you did?  There is another name to add to your list of people to thank.

Thank you, Freddie Lu, for teaching and encouraging me, and for seeing my potential and acting on it.  Thank you, God, for Freddie Lu.

On a Budget

So, I was doing a little math.  I got to wondering how many thanks a person can give in a year.  I was thinking about doing some forecasting analysis, to see what and how many thanks I may look forward to making this year.  It has to be more than one per day.  It could be as many as one per waking hour.  It really could be more than one per hour, but I think there is some saturation point at which it might begin to impact one's productivity at work.

I tossed around some numbers and arrived at 16 waking hours, averaging one insightful moment of thankfulness every four hours [notably, a random number somewhere between one per day and one every five minutes].  A little multiplication [a dash of division to taste], and I have a budget of 1,460 thanks per year.

I love math.

Thank you for math.

Now, what am I likely to be thankful for?  After some some back-of-the-envelope brainstorming, I've prepared a pie chart forecasting likely categories into which my moments of thanks are likely to fall.  Any good thing not appearing on the following pie chart can probably fit into one of the categories listed.

Thank you for Excel

Denise's Annual Thankfulness Budget, 2013

Thank God, the source of all our gifts.

Short Form

Let's DO this!  My comfy bed is waiting.

Thankful for:

• The opportunity to strike up a very interesting conversation with a stranger who turned out to be one of the writers and negotiators of the tentative agreement between UTLA and LAUSD on the future of teacher evaluations.
• Looking for a Starbucks but instead discovering a good cup of coffee at 7-eleven on what turns out to be 1-dollar-Wednesday.
• Inventing a thankfulness short form so I can go to bed.

DONE!

Thank you, God, for all the bright spots in average days, and for comfy beds on average nights.

This Blessed Union

Have you hugged your Union Rep today?

Yikes, just saying the word "union" these days is like shouting "bomb" in an airport.  On the issue of labor unions lately, people fall into two categories:  you either hate 'em or...don't like 'em much.  (And it's the members who feel that way!)

Really, opinions are all over the place when it comes to unions.  They're too powerful; they're powerless.  They're necessary; they're unneeded.  They serve the public; they're self-serving.  Everybody's right.  It's a paradox. [shrug]

I don't want to get political.  I'm trying to be thankful.  And there is one person I know who deserves thanks and gets none:  my union rep.  My union rep is not a Teamster thug named Lou.  She is a 4th grade teacher named Aidee.  She took up the mantle when no one else would.  We came to teach.  Most of us don't really identify with the lobbying, picketing, slogan shouting mob that the public equates with unions.  At the start of each school year, when the committees are being posted and tasks assigned, we choose campus clean up over Union Rep.  Aidee stepped up, her spiked heels clicking on the tile floors.

She attends meetings and trainings and reports back to us rank-and-file.  She researches and advises and is responsible for countless thankless tasks far removed from the teaching she loves.  And because she does this, I don't have to.  Uh huh, there it is.

The thank you note I wrote today was for Aidee.  Do you know someone who does the work you hate to do?  Do you ever think, "I am SO glad that's not me!"  Put that person on your list of people to thank.

Thank you, Aidee, for taking care of us and the Union tasks we loathe.  Thank you, God, for Aidee.

Not in Their Job Description

In an earlier blog post, I wrote about saying thank you to the people you meet in the ordinary course of the day performing their jobs.  [Just Doing Their Jobs, 1/3/13, in case you're interested]  Would you ever thank someone for NOT doing their job?

It's not what you think.  I know that sounds like, oh, you're in the grocery aisle, and you can't find the quinoa [because you think it's spelled keenwa and you're looking in the pasta section instead of the rice*], and the store employee walks up, and you ask, "Excuse me, can you tell me where to find the quinoa?"  And the employee says "no" and walks away.  That's a serious case of Not Doing their Job.  If you said "thank you" in that situation, it would include a lot of eye rolling and sarcasm.

I am talking about the people you know who go beyond their job description.  They do more.  They help more.  They listen to a great idea and instead of simply nodding and sighing, "yeah, that would be nice," they put the idea into action.  This describes my friend, Bryan.

Bryan is an awesome teacher.  We have taught 3rd grade together for years, I've lost count.  I could go on and on about his dedication to his craft and to his students.  Remember, teaching is his job.  It would sound shocking to thank him for Not doing his job.  But that's what this is about.

Today, the staff at our elementary school returned from a 3-week winter break.  We expected to return to the same campus, the same classrooms, the same lunchroom.  But during our break, Bryan didn't do his job.  He did something else.  He painted the teachers' lunchroom.  Along with teachers Manuel and Francisco,  he turned the room from a dirty, dismal, institutional cell to a relaxing, calming, comfortable retreat.  Bryan didn't just say, "wouldn't it be nice if...?"  He didn't say "That's not my job."  He turned a good idea into something real and great.

Today's thank you note is addressed to Bryan.

Thank you, Bryan, for making this room a reality, an oasis for us all.  Thank you, God, for Bryan.

*I know this because just two weeks ago my 22-year-old daughter brought home a box of quinoa, and I said, "Hey, I thought it was spelled keenwa, and I had no idea this was a kind of rice thing.

You Cannot Over Do the Over Due

I once held on to an overdue library book so long, that the fines exceeded the price to replace the book. The librarian forgave the fine completely.  She was thankful to have the book back.  This was years ago, and I remember it still.

Are "thank yous" like borrowed books?  If you withhold them indefinitely, do they maintain their full value? What are the fines for keeping them to yourself, and will you be forgiven when you finally relinquish them?

Bullying is much in the news, lately.  Life is not a Disney Channel movie plot in which the bullied overcome embarrassment and public humiliation to win the respect of the popular crowd and attend prom with the star quarterback or beauty queen.  Most of the time, I think, people are in denial.  It's just a phase; it's kids being kids; it'll pass.  There is no justice.  Then there are those cases that turn into national tragedies.

A few years ago my daughter was bullied.  In middle school, she was ostracized.  She was ignored.  In a small school where anonymity was impossible and the potential for new friendships limited, she reached her tipping point.  She called me at work.  She couldn't be there another minute.  I took her home.  Now what?

As I talked about the situation over lunch with my friends back at work, Cindy began to cry.  Our problem touched a very raw nerve.  Something none of us knew about.  My brave friend Cindy revealed that her wonderful daughter had attended that same school, and that the bullying very nearly brought their family to unthinkable tragedy.  Cindy's courage to share their story rescued our family.  I enrolled Lindsey in a new school the next day.  Anonymous, relieved, and with her life to make new, she made new friends.  Everything got better.

Today, I returned an overdue thank you.  I wrote a note to Cindy.  I'll give it to her tomorrow.

Thank you, Cindy.  Thank you, God, for Cindy.

Making or Breaking the Rules

Well, I didn't blog yesterday.  I was feeling like I'd broken some rule, the "blog each day without fail" rule.  I did try.  But when I thought about my day, I realized I hadn't said "thank you."  So, I'd actually broken another rule, the "be thankful each day" rule.

Just four days in to a Year of Gratitude, I had already fallen behind.  So.  Wow.  That didn't take long.

I gave this some thought.  I closed my laptop last night, having nothing to write, and crawled in to bed. Why didn't I say thank you?  I ran through my day in my head.  [This is where I deleted the boring list of mundane tasks that filled my day.]  A pattern emerged.  I had spent the day doing normal mom stuff.  Busy as I was I heard "thank you" many times.  Thank you for the tea, mom.  Thank you for the sandwich, mom. Thank you for taking me to the party, mom.  Yes, they do say thank you.

So I cut myself a little slack; I stopped beating myself up for not giving thanks; I snuggled in to the blankets, and before I dozed off I said to my husband,  "Thank you for coming with me to pick up Lindsey tonight."  There it was.

What are the rules, then?  Am I required to blog each day?  Should I blog twice to catch up?  Do I have to tell people each day that I appreciate them?  Or is the challenge to thank God for daily blessings?  What are the rules?  

My blog.  My rules.  Blog daily if possible.  Thank someone each day.  Thank God always.  Forgive myself when I break the rules.  Thank you, God, for loving me even when I break the rules.

Just Doing Their Jobs

In the daily living of our lives, we interact with others.  We see, converse with, email, phone family members, friends, co-workers, complete strangers.  Much of our human interaction is work.  In the workplace, often the very performance of our jobs depends on the work of our co-workers.  And so often we come into contact with complete strangers during the course of their work.

Today, I ran errands to the bank and the grocery store.  Everyone, from the tellers and bank managers to grocery clerks and baggers, was very nice and helpful.  People like this inspire smiles and thank yous.  Courtesy breeds courtesy.  Did I smile and say "Happy New Year" and "thank you" because they were kind?  Or were they friendly and helpful because I was polite?  

Each person holds the power to make human interaction pleasant or miserable.  Even the ten-minute relationship you share at the bank teller's window deserves our careful tending.  

Thank you.  You made a mundane task pleasant.  You turned a necessary errand into an excursion.  Thank you.  

The DMV: Too Difficult Too Soon

So, this Year of Gratitude got off to a great start.  I became overconfident.  I drove my thankfulness to the California Department of Motor Vehicles to take it for a test spin.  I discovered I require a lot more practice at being grateful; I won't be trading in my learner's permit for a fancy license any time soon.

Lindsey, at 16 and just five months shy of her 17th birthday, is anxious to get her driver's license.  She was adamant about passing the written test before winter break was over and we were back in school (she as a student, I, a teacher).  This was not our first visit to the DMV or her first effort at passing the written test, but we had an appointment the last time, so we breezed through the lines, if not the exam.

With the only available appointments being in mid-January, we found ourselves in line outside the DMV at 8:30 this morning.  That  line.  The one that goes out the door, extends to the sidewalk, and bends around almost to the end of the block.  I remember being in this line in the rain years ago.

Thank you, God, for the sunshine.

The line crawled, but a smiling, efficient young woman was making her way through, handing out forms and clipboards, to speed folks along.  She had no clipboard for me.  "Yeah, you have to wait in this line," she droned, her last smile and clipboard gone to the gentleman in front of me.

Thank you.  

Well, all those people ahead of me with clipboards will move along more quickly, and that helps me, if indirectly.

She is here to retake the written test, I tell the clerk.  Take this to window 25.  After a tour of the building, I am self-effacing:  I apologize; I may have been unclear; she is here for the written test, and window 25 is a line for the driving test.  Window 25, ma'am.  They handle both.

Thank you.

Excellent!  We're next in line behind another mother and daughter; this won't take long.  And then the clerk left her desk on an errand.  Or maybe it was her break.  It was rather longer...oh, here she comes--oh, there she went.  Again.

Thank you for giving me this day off with my beautiful daughter, without any time pressure to be somewhere else, because we're gonna be here awhile longer.

Brilliant!  The clerk is back and it's our turn.  We're just going to get this test, and...a pushy, impatient woman, annoyed at having to wait, cut into the line demanding to know how long this is going to take. Well, we only need 60 seconds to get our form and trip down to a new line at another window, but she is taking 5 minutes to complain and prevent the clerk from assisting us.

Thank You, Lord, for reminding me what I might've been like if I had not already resolved to be thankful today.

It is test time, at last.  Lindsey is hard at work, and I find a seat.  I take out my phone to pass the time.

Thank you for Solitaire.  Thank you for Word Search.  Thank you for Facebook.  Hmmm.  Thank you for email.

Lindsey is still at work on the test.

Thank you for Lindsey taking her time and not rushing through it.  Thank you for Lindsey being really really really careful.

More Solitaire.   More Word Searches.  Now I'm deleting old emails.  She's done!

Thank you for Lindsey being done!

Even better!  She passed!

Oh, Thank you thank you thank you for Lindsey passing.

What about me?  Did I pass?  For surely I was being tested this day.  Every obstacle was tossed in my way.  I thanked the Lord for each one.  I got my Learner's Permit.  It's good for one year.  May I learn to be truly thankful before it expires.

Day One--The Top of My List

January 1, 2013 has arrived, and the Year of Gratitude is officially underway.  No starter pistol fired to mark the start, no flags waved, no gates opened to set the horses running.  But the day dawned quiet and happy, and I felt glad.  I really have been anticipating this day, this resolution to live the year in gratitude.

I wasn't anxious.  I wasn't worried about how to commence.  There was never a question in my mind where to begin.  I phoned my mother-in-law, Jean Woerner.  

Since marrying her son, Drew, in September 1988, I have had the great good fortune to have a wonderful mother-in-law.  Sadly, we have spent the years on opposite ends of the U.S.  Her Pennsylvania boy married a California girl, and I know the miles and time apart have prevented us from having the really close, loving relationship we should have had.  I know she would have loved to have been a hands-on grandma, a babysitter at a moment's notice.  There could have been so many holidays and Saturday picnics and Friday night dinners.  She never not ever not even once in all these years nagged or complained.  She has loved, trusted, worried, prayed.  

So when Year of Gratitude dawned, Jean Woerner was at the top of my list.   I called to say I love you.  I called to tell her thank you.