from Halloween to thankfulness...

 

 “If the only prayer you say in your whole life is ‘Thank you,” that would suffice.” – Meister Eckhart

 

This week we move from the month of ghosts and goblins into the month of thankfulness. And, even in the context of this really beautiful time of year - the trees on fire with colorful leaves and the air so crisp, cool and fresh – thankful is sometimes a hard thing to remember to be.

 

“We count our miseries carefully and accept our blessings without much thought,” a Chinese proverb says. So true, so much of the time…

 

How often do we nurse some hurt, worry or problem at the expense of remembering the many things we have to be grateful for? Try as I do, to stay focused on my blessings, too often I find myself dwelling on my “hurt, worry or problem” list. With a life as rich and well-blessed as mine, there is no excuse for having to stop consciously, breathe and focus in order to remember how good life is. That should be where my mind rests – not where I have to pull it.  

 

The other night was Halloween and Mr. Clark and I gave out candy. I like watching the parade of trick-or-treaters in their bright costumes, attentive parents with flashlights hovering nearby. I like to see what the kids are wearing and I enjoy watching them pick carefully and thoughtfully from the big candy bowl, when I tell them to choose three of any kind they like.  

 

We didn’t have as many trick-or-treaters as we used to, but the ones who came were in good spirits. A surprising number of them yelled, “Happy Halloween!” or a really excited “Trick-or-Treat!” as they came bounding up our walk and almost all of them said “Thank you!” without being prompted by their parents as they left.

 

Some of the kids wore elaborate costumes that clearly involved either a good bit of money or a good bit of time or both; others wore something slapped together at the last minute. They all seemed to be having a good time.

 

Amidst all the princesses and super heros, ninjas, ghouls and Hello Kitty cats, one little guy stood out. He looked to be about five - clearly a busy and enthusiastic fellow. He was dressed in red long johns and brown cowboy boots. His face was painted to look sort of like The Joker from Batman. He picked his three pieces of candy quickly, thanked us loudly and whole heartedly, then stood taking it all in, bubbling with energy and joy.  

 

“I like your dogs,” he said, about the motley canine crew barking and hurling themselves at our front door. “I like your candles,” he said, about the brightly lit Jack-O-Lanterns. “I like your house,” he said, staring up at the tall columns towering over our front porch. “Wow!” he said, with a big smile on his face, “Wow!”    

 

“I like your costume,” Mr. Clark said. “Are you The Joker?”

“No!” the little guy exclaimed indignantly. “I’m a Dead Clown!”

At that point we noticed his older, much quieter brother standing next to him, wearing a thermal shirt, camouflage pants and a red clown nose.

“And, I’ve got his nose!” the brother said. Then they laughed and ran down the walk, into the night, calling “Happy Halloween!”

           

Something about the little guy’s joy was contagious and, Mr. Clark and I couldn’t stop laughing as one of us said, “Are you The Joker?” and the other replied, “No! I’m a Dead Clown!” Then, together, “And, I’ve got his nose!”

 

We stayed on the porch until all the candy was gone and the street fell quiet and dark.

“That was a good Halloween,” Mr. Clark said. I agreed, as we shared one more laugh about “And, I’ve got his nose!” 

 

Not all of our Halloweens have been such good ones. A few years ago, Mr. Clark was unemployed. We only had a little bit of candy to hand out, so we turned the porch light off early and went to bed with plenty of legitimate hurts, worries and problems to think about. Back then it seemed reasonable to focus on the sad things – there were so many of them and they loomed so large…

 

“I once had a garden filled with flowers that grew only on dark thoughts but they need constant attention and one day I decided I had better things to do,” said Brian Andreas and the StoryPeople.  I’m getting better at his approach - after all there are so many people with hurts, worries and problems so much bigger and more real than mine.

 

The holidays will soon be here – a time when, for many, the contrast between “hurts, worries and problems” and “happy, thankful and well-blessed” becomes especially stark. I plan to take it all in with the same joy and enthusiasm that little Dead Clown had, laugh with the same glee he and his brother shared, and be as generous and kind as I possibly can, to as many as I possibly can. And, the one prayer I will pray will be a heartfelt “Thank you.”