In the classic movie, “Shenandoah”,
Jimmy Stewart stars as Charlie Anderson, a Virginian farmer simply trying to
keep the atrocities of the Civil War from touching his family. The story
opens with the family set around the dinner table, with one empty place set for
his wife, Martha, who had died in childbirth years earlier. He'd made a
promise to her to raise the family as good Christians, a promise he keeps more
by the letter of the law than by the spirit she'd most probably intended.
He gestures that they should all bow their heads, and then offers a prayer
which they've obviously heard time and again. He says, "Lord, we
cleared this land, we plowed it, sowed it, and harvested it. We cooked
the harvest. We wouldn't be here, we wouldn't be eatin' if we hadn't done it all ourselves.
We worked dog-boned hard for every crumb and morsel, but we thank you just the
same anyway Lord, for the food we're about to eat. Amen."While Charlie Anderson carries the commendable and important attribute of a good work ethic, it won't be enough to see him through.
We live in a time where the idea of genuine "thankfulness" seems to have slipped away from us somehow. There's a "we thank you just the same anyway" attitude regarding how we express gratitude on just about every level imaginable. Could it be that our weak sense of thankfulness has turned into a type of entitlement that labels most blessings and benefits in life as little more than an expectation of something we "deserve"?
Something I heard years ago forever impacted how I internalize what “blessings” are. The woman speaking touched on how many feel “let down” and depressed as they wonder where promised blessings are. After all, we went to church, married in the temple, raised families, busied ourselves with church callings, faithfully held “Family Home Evening”, sent our kids to youth activities and on missions, abstained from tobacco, alcohol, and coffee, and dutifully rooted for BYU. Where are the blessings for our efforts? (In full disclosure, I've personally never rooted for BYU, after all, one does have limits 😏)
She suggested that the things for which we feel entitled might be nothing more than what has become known as the “American Dream”, consisting of a perfect spouse, great career, beautiful home and manicured yard, family vacations, new cars, and children who looked like they stepped out of a television commercial.
Imagine passing to the other side, and having the opportunity to see the blessings accumulated over a lifetime. We may be surprised as we see our blessings in a different light. They were there all along, it was we who never chose to see them for what they were. They were not the “American Dream”. They never were. They were so much more, yet went unnoticed as we were continually in search of something else. The realization of regret that I might feel at such an event swept over me like a calming wave, as if I were Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz, waking up to realize that she held the power all along, but had simply failed to recognize it.
I’ve never forgotten that moment and how I felt, and while it didn’t make my life instantaneously happy on the spot, it was the beginning of a new and improved journey, and a completely different outlook on life.
I read an article entitled, “Always Have a Good Thing to Say”, suggesting that it’s never a bad idea to have something positive to mention in conversation. Something unpleasant isn't quite so terrible if coupled alongside something positive. Even raisins are palatable when placed inside a cinnamon roll. Well, maybe. It may not work with raisins, but the principle itself remains sound.
Seeing the good in things isn't naïve or
weak, it's strategic and necessary as we fight for survival through a
pessimistic world. If an individual can find one thing, just one
good thing for which to be grateful, it could be the beginning of ending a
spiral of perpetual unhappiness.
I enjoy watching movies, and try to find “one good thing”, perhaps a message or quote to remember. In a strange and quirky movie entitled, “Welcome to Happiness”, the protagonist is given the chance to ask the "powers that be" why life has to be so hard, and receives his answer. "There's always going to be suffering . . . and there will always be the opportunity for joy. The question is how we deal with it".
I feel saddened for those who work so very hard at being unhappy. Life can be difficult and harsh from the get-go, and one cannot be happy without the acknowledgement of that brutal reality. One can either become despondent, or choose to find happiness along the way. Sometimes we even force ourselves to remain angry or sad. As soon as the feeling begins to dissipate, we find ourselves reviving it, living it over and over, like picking at a scab to the extent that it never has the chance to heal properly.
In "The Count of Monte Cristo", the young Edmond and Ferdinand both receive gifts from their fathers. One receives a whistle, while the other receives a pony. Edmond was so happy with the simple joy of having a whistle, that Ferdinand found himself wanting the whistle more than the lavish pony. Some create animosity toward those who are happier than they. Misery enjoys company, so they say.
In "The Secret Garden", the children learn wisdom from the wise old gardener as they watch him intent in his work. “Where you tend a rose, a thistle cannot grow”. In busying ourselves with positive endeavors, the time to fret and ruminate has a tendency to simply vanish.
In "The Brothers Karamazov", three brothers have very differing outlooks on life and the nature of things. At one point, one of the brothers has a dialogue with the devil, who more or less claims that he’s been denied the emotion of gratitude, and that without gratitude, his nature is forever limited, and therefore destined to be that of resentment and revenge. Unlike the devil, whose destiny may be set in stone, we have a choice.
In the earlier mentioned "Shenandoah", Charlie Anderson begins to see life differently throughout the course of the film, as one tragedy after another strikes the Anderson family. The youngest son is mistaken for a confederate soldier while fishing and is captured by Union troops. Another son and his wife are murdered by marauders, and a third son is mistakenly shot and killed by an overzealous sentry. Near the end of the story, we see the family around the table again, this time there are four more empty place settings as Charlie Anderson begins his ritual prayer. But this time we hear a change, as his voice begins to quiver and break as the awful realization comes upon him that being in control of one's destiny isn't quite as simple as he'd once believed. His voice trails off as he finishes the words, ". . . if we hadn't done it all ourselves."
He leaves the table and walks to the little plot of land where his wife is buried, along with the addition of three new graves. Hearing distant church bells, he realizes that it’s Sunday. In keeping with the promise made to his wife, he hurries the family to church. They walk in late as usual, disrupting the congregation, but even more so the minister, who has known for years that Charlie Anderson does not really want to be there. During the hymn, the back door opens and the young son who’d been mistakenly captured, hobbles in on a handmade crutch. The congregation stops singing, and it’s then that Charlie Anderson sees things as they really are. His face shows an expression of love and gratitude that words cannot express. He embraces his son, and they, along with the whole congregation finish the hymn, with the realization that life is indeed good, in fact very good, despite its hardships.
Gratitude and appreciation go hand in hand, but they do not necessarily come together, nor do they come quickly. They will come in time however, if we but simply “let them”. If we try to fight it on one hand, or to hurry the process on the other, we may miss out altogether. We may eventually beat ourselves up over it, and while it may be human nature to do so, we probably shouldn’t.
A lifetime is a long time for a reason, as it has many facets, and we see things differently along the way. As kids, we could hardly wait for Christmas or summer vacation, forever counting down the weeks and days. Milestone birthdays, such as becoming teenagers or getting a driver's license were right up there, along with first dates, proms, and the like. All just part of growing up. Would we ever get there?
In what seems like a blink of the eye, we find ourselves on the other end of the spectrum, ironically wishing that time would slow down, as it seems to be passing all too quickly. Where did the time go? A lifetime has passed, leaving a trail of experiences and memories in its wake. The years between that of childhood and where we find ourselves today were busy, hectic, and overwhelming at times, each day filled to the brim, taking our every waking moment.
We tend to be stuck on “auto pilot” during much of our lives, as it becomes little more than a blur. There will come a time however, for sorting out all the ups and downs. One might even say that a mellowing process occurs, a silver lining of sorts that comes along with aging. Remembrance is graciously softened by the passage of time, giving us the opportunity to bask in gratitude. It's somehow comforting, leaving one with a warm, cozy feeling not unlike that of warm cocoa and melty marshmallows on a cold winter day. They say that memory and nostalgia are interconnected with gratitude, and have the ability to quell off feelings of sadness and depression. Could it really be that simple?
I recall one year when our children were young, we’d invited an older gentleman in the neighborhood to our Christmas Eve. As tradition, each of our children would open a gift that evening from their grandparents. Not wanting Harry to feel left out, Scott went out that afternoon to quickly find something for Harry to open, which ended up being a set of gloves, hat, and a scarf. Admittedly not much thought went into the gift, but he would have something to open. As he opened his gift, he smiled and a tear came to his eye. He graciously and sincerely thanked us and then rubbed his fingers across the soft lining of the gloves, and then put the scarf around his neck and the hat on his head.
Our youngest daughter was so touched by Harry’s expression of gratitude and appreciation that later that evening, she commented that as she watched him, she'd wished, at least for a moment, that she had received his gift of gloves, a scarf, and a hat. Not that she actually wanted them, but she was so taken by his appreciation and gratitude, that she wanted to experience that same feeling.
Gratitude is just as contagious as are the feelings of anger and resentment. We each have the opportunity to choose which feelings we focus on, and what it is that we leave with others along our way.
I’ll close with one more quote from another Jimmy Stewart favorite, “Harvey”. When asked why he has no “righteous indignation” toward those who’ve taken advantage of him. Softly and contemplative, he answers. “Years ago, my mother used to say to me, she'd say ‘In this world, Elwood, you can be oh so smart, or oh so pleasant.’ Well, for years I was smart . . . I recommend pleasant.”
I’ll only make the addition of the word gratitude, for one will have a difficult time being pleasant, or to ever stumble upon happiness for that matter, without an attitude toward gratitude.
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