In the Spirit
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Michele Marr
o7 “That best portion of a good man’s life -- his little, nameless,
unremembered acts of kindness and of love.”f7
-- William Wordsworth
Among my utmost regrets are the opportunities I neglected, or simply
did not recognized in time, to thank someone for an act of generosity or
kindness that made my life richer, brighter, easier -- possible.
Like the refrain in a Joni Mitchell song, “Don’t it always seem to go
that you don’t know what you’ve got ‘til it’s gone.” I often seem to
notice and cherish gifts of the heart from the long view of hindsight.
I keep a long list of people -- people whose whereabouts or names I no
longer know and kind strangers whose names I never knew -- to whom I wish
I could send my tardy thankfulness.
I keep the list to thank them in prayer and to ask God to richly bless
them. And I try to pass on to others the gifts they left with me. Often I
think this is how God meant it to be.
What exasperates me is I find it hard to keep my list from growing.
All too often the value of a kind word or a gracious gesture soaks in too
late. All too often I put off saying thank you today for kindness
tendered yesterday, or the day before, or the day before that, or until
my thanks seem far too overdue to say them at all.
And I know very well that is not how God means it to be. Yet, if
Wordsworth’s observation and a week designated “Thanks For All the Gifts
Week” are any indication, I am not alone in this weakness.
“Thanks For All the Gifts Week” is the brainchild -- maybe that should
be heart-child -- of Eva Rosenberg. As far as I can tell, it is mostly a
well-kept secret, but I like the idea very much. I suppose because I need
it badly. And so does Eva, which is why she dreamed it up in the first
place.
Eva placed the week in the third week of August because, she says, “By
the end of August, you’ve lived through Valentine’s Day, Purim, Easter,
Passover, Secretary’s Day, Mother’s Day, Father’s Day, graduation, the
Fourth of July, most birthdays, many weddings and showers, lots of new
babies, school hasn’t started yet, the High Holy Days of the Jews aren’t
due for a while [and] it’s still a long way to Thanksgiving, Christmas
and New Year’s.”
When Eva speaks of gifts, she is not primarily talking about the ones
we get in paper and bows or velvet boxes lined with satin. She is not
thinking Hope Diamond or Taj Mahal. Though, certainly those deserve a
“thank you” too.
She is thinking about the day your sister took the kids before you
jumped off a bridge; the neighbor who fixed the toilet when you didn’t
have the money to call a plumber; the retail clerk who called the
manufacturer and traced down the one-of-a-kind button you lost off your
favorite suit after you already lost the replacement button that came
with the suit in that little plastic bag; the auto parts shop guy who let
you in just as he was locking the door when he saw you there with your
lifeless alternator in your hand; the couple who rescued you, a stranger
from the mean streets of the 20th century, from the freeway where your
car broke down and gave you a ride to a phone and your next appointment.
Eva is thinking about gifts that money can’t buy.
“When,” she asks, “was the last time you said ‘thank you’ to all the
people who make your life so good?”
She knows we meant to. She knows that somehow time simply got away
with our intentions. She knows how the days turn to weeks and the weeks
turn to months. She knows we are thinking, “Sheesh. If I send a thank you
now it’s going to be so embarrassing.”
So she came up with this week to give us all a second -- or third or
10th -- chance. This year the third week in August runs from the 12th
through the 18th. So I’m a little late in the game. But there is still
time. Heaven knows I have so many thank you cards I meant to send stuffed
into the drawers of my desks they hardly close. Some cards haven’t even
made it to the desk. They are on the kitchen counter, the dresser, under
the mouse pad or in my purse. I don’t even have to make a trip to the
Hallmark store. All I have to do is buy some stamps and get started.
And what if I don’t finish by the end of the week? Well, I never
remember getting a thank you I didn’t like, however untimely.
How about you?
* MICHELE MARR is a freelance writer and graphic designer from
Huntington Beach. She has been interested in religion and ethics for as
long as she can remember. She can be reached at o7
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