A legacy of counting blessings

December 17, 2010  Blessing #224

I know, I know I'm late.  There was just too much going on yesterday.  Katie was still out of school, but we were up to take Chip and drop off teacher gifts and party supplies for their classroom Christmas parties.  Then I got a call from Trey who said he was too sick to even drive home from work, and that I needed to come get him. So he was upstairs with a stomach bug, Katie (though much better) was on sofa with a Barbie movie, and I had to head back to get Chip from school at an early dismissal.  At least Trey's illness was shortlived--by last night, with the help of a lot of Gatorade, he was ready to head back to Athens Orthopedic Clinic to get his car.

So, the miracle of yesterday happened on the way home from that trek to AOC.  I had the kids in my car, and we were listening to 104.7 The Fish-a local Christian radio station playing nothing but Christmas music till 12/25.  A song came on sung from the viewpoint of an orphan.  The chorus was something like, "All I want for Christmas is someone to tuck me in at night."  I had never heard it before, but as I'm listening, I hear soft sobs coming from the back seat. I leap into "Mom" mode, assuming that the stomach virus has claimed it's 2nd victim.  "Chip!  What is the  matter?" I ask.  He says, "Mom, I'm just so happy."  "What are you happy about, son?"  "Everything, Mom, everything."  I was floored--he was happy about everything--even though our house is a disasterous, germ-infested nightmare--even though I couldn't come to his class Christmas party which he has been so looking forward to--and even though he missed seeing the REAL Santa Claus who comes to AOC every year.

My eight year old was acknowledging his blessings in such an authentic way that he was moved to tears. I know I wrote about his sweet spirit--but there is also a wisdom in him that is remarkable.  I don't know many (ok, any) eight year olds who can imagine the world from a different vantage point than their own and then verbalize their reaction the way he did.

Anyway, here's to counting blessings.  And here's to seeing my child do the same.  Maybe, just maybe, we're building a legacy of acknowledging the good in the world and in our lives.