Offer up a prayer of Thanksgiving

This is the time of year to give thanks. I am thankful that there have been no dead bodies in the house for a couple of weeks. Either I wiped out an entire family of field mice or one escaped and told the others that the oven drawer was a dangerous place to be. It could be that I blocked their main entrance and they have yet to find an alternate doorway or maybe they found a safer place to ride out the winter.

In case you’re wondering, Gracie the calico cat hasn’t caught a mouse in years. She believes in live and let live. She also believes in naps, lots and lots of naps. If the mice had the flavor and consistency of a chocolate covered cherry Blizzard she would hunt them down and devour them. Since they don’t, I am left to set traps and to feel guilt that the field mice gave their lives for a bite of peanut butter.

Mice weren’t the only prey to meet their maker. I happened to look out a window and found what I assume was a hawk eating its dinner. It was sitting on the ground tearing feathers off a smaller bird. It was doing more looking around than eating. It decided it would rather eat while sitting on a branch instead of on the ground.

I’m not sure this worked out as well as the bird had hoped. It was busy tearing downy feathers off its lunch when a half-grown squirrel decided to have a little fun. The squirrel climbed down the tree almost close enough to touch it. The bird spread its tail and fluffed out its wings to let the squirrel know it was not welcome. The squirrel scampered away. They did this several times before the predator finished its dinner.

I am thankful that I am neither mouse nor bird. I don’t have to chase down supper and eat it raw. Nor do I have to be wary that I don’t become something else’s dinner. I simply have to brave the grocery stores or restaurants and carry home food wrapped in layers and layers of plastic.

Preparing it doesn’t involve disposing of the feathers or dodging squirrels.

It is customary to gather all our friends and family this time of year and give thanks for all our blessings. Once everyone has arrived, before the first bite is taken, we say a prayer of thanks. No matter who says the blessing I always think of my grandson, Nicholas. At the time he hadn’t quite mastered the language. We all bowed our heads and Nicholas prayed. He was very earnest. After the final amen, his siblings protested that it wasn’t a proper prayer because the only words anyone could understand were, “God” and “Amen.” Hubby and I countered their argument, saying as long as

God could understand that’s all that counted.

I am thankful for many things, even the ones I complain about. Deep in the recesses of my mind where the memories reside are the happy days, frightened days, lost days and all the times when all was right with the world.

In this time when fiction becomes truth if said often enough, we have much to be thankful for. Sure, we hurt in places we didn’t know we had. We doubt any and everyone in government. Yet, individuals still rush to help when called on. I have a friend in Washington state who put out a request for supplies for a family in need. In mere seconds she received many offers to help. That is the America I am thankful for. I believe this same rush to help others occurs many times a day all across the country.

I still believe in the power of prayer, even if the only two words I understand are “Amen,” and “God.” Have a good Thanksgiving and let the Christmas shopping begin.