If y’all knew how happy I am to be posting using the original WordPress dashboard, I might be slightly embarrassed. But you can count that as item one on the gratitude/something on Sunday list. (And now I think maybe I prefer the new one??? Ugh, you win, WordPress.)
Item two is that I went to church for the first time in weeks (okay, it’s been over a month–possibly two). Anyway, I still haven’t found a church home yet, so I have been visiting different churches. Today, I went to one of the Unitarian churches in town as a guest of my friend Kathy. The topic of the service was, of course, gratitude and when it came time to say what we were grateful for, I said, “New friends.”
So, yes, I am grateful for all of the wonderful people I have been meeting since I’ve met here, some of whom I already feel comfortable calling friends. So that’s nice.
There was also a poem, and since that seems to be a running theme around here these past few days, here it is for your enjoyment:
A Prayer of Thanksgiving by Max Coots
Let us give thanks…
For generous friends…with hearts as big as hubbards and smiles as bright as their blossoms;
For feisty friends as tart as apples;
For continuous friends, who, like scallions and cucumbers, keep reminding us we had them;
For crotchety friends, as sour as rhubarb and as indestructible;
For handsome friends, who are as gorgeous as eggplants and as elegant as a row of corn — and the others — as plain as potatoes, and so good for you.
For funny friends, who are as silly as brussels sprouts and as amusing as Jerusalem artichokes, and serious friends as complex as cauliflowers and as intricate as onions;
For friends as unpretentious as cabbages, as subtle as summer squash, as persistent as parsley, as delightful as dill, as endless as zucchini, and who — like parsnips — can be counted on to see you through the long winter;
For old friends, nodding like sunflowers in the evening-time, and young friends coming on as fast as radishes;
For loving friends, who wind around as like tendrils, and hold us despite our blights, wilts, and witherings;
And finally, for those friends now gone, like gardens past, that have been harvested – but who fed us in their times that we might have life thereafter;
For all these we give thanks.
Special shout-out to my continuous and crotchety friends. ❤️
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