I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO BE SANKFUL FOR

A true story about gratitude, missing front teeth, and one very important dinner.

DELIGHT No. 15

I am the eldest of seven children who grew up together in the same household.

Our family was larger still if you counted stepbrothers and stepsisters who lived elsewhere.

So there were a lot of us.

A lot of voices.

A lot of personalities.

A lot of stories.

And somewhere among all those years together, one little moment happened that our family would tell again and again.

It began one summer afternoon.

The Visitors from Virginia

A group of teenagers was visiting our local church for a brief time.

They had come from Virginia, and during their stay they visited our house several times.

They shared Bible stories with us.

They sang songs.

They played.

They laughed.

And for a little while, these teenagers from somewhere else became our new friends.

One afternoon, we were all outside together, sitting in a circle in the grass.

The visit was drawing to a close.

Before everyone left, one of our new friends suggested that we end our time together with a prayer.

But first, we would go around the circle.

Each person would say one thing they were grateful for.

Simple enough.

Or so we thought.

😂

Around the Circle We Went

One person shared.

Then another.

And another.

I don't remember what everyone said.

What I remember...

was my little sister.

Almost immediately, she began to squirm.

At first, perhaps nobody thought much of it.

But as the circle moved closer and closer to her turn, the worry on her little face became impossible to miss.

She fidgeted.

She twisted.

Her expression grew increasingly distressed.

She looked as though she might wriggle right out of her own skin.

😂

She was next to the youngest.

Which meant there weren't many people left between her...

and THE TURN.

The gratitude was coming.

And apparently, she was not prepared.

Then It Happened

Her turn arrived.

And my little sister burst into tears.

Not a little sniffle.

She was genuinely upset.

Someone immediately asked:

“Honey, what's wrong?”

She covered her face with her hands.

And through the space left by her two missing front teeth, she cried:

“I don't know what to be sankful for.”

🥹😂♥️

Oh, that poor little girl.

Everyone else had found an answer.

And now here she was, sitting in the grass with all those people waiting, unable to think of one single thing.

This was no longer a prayer circle.

This was a crisis.

Then Someone Asked a Question

Not a profound question.

Not:

What gives your life meaning?

Not:

What blessing do you hold most sacred?

Nothing remotely like that.

Someone simply asked her:

“What did you have for dinner last night?”

And then...

something changed.

She began wiping the tears from her eyes with her hands.

She thought.

And suddenly—

you could see it materialize.

A slow smile began spreading across that beautiful little face.

She had something.

Oh...

she had something.

😂♥️

She clasped her little hands beneath her chin.

Bowed her little head.

And in an extraordinarily loud and triumphant voice exclaimed:

“SANK GOD FOR HOT DOGS AND NOODLES!!!”

🤣🤣🤣♥️♥️♥️

There it was.

Gratitude.

Found.

Prayer answered.

Crisis officially over.

Apparently dinner had saved the day.

Sank God Indeed

That moment became part of our family's history.

We've told the story countless times over the years.

And like most family stories, sometimes details shift depending upon who's doing the telling.

But I remember that little girl.

I remember the circle.

I remember her distress.

I remember those missing front teeth.

And I remember the transformation when she realized that she did have something to be grateful for.

Hot dogs.

And noodles.

Not world peace.

Not great spiritual revelation.

Not an eloquent answer worthy of the prayer circle.

Dinner.

And it was enough.

More than enough, apparently.

Judging by the volume.

😂

Perhaps We Make Gratitude Too Complicated

We sometimes talk about gratitude as though we need to go searching for something profound.

Something enormous.

Something worthy.

But gratitude doesn't have an entrance requirement.

It doesn't need beautiful language.

It doesn't need to impress anybody.

And it certainly doesn't need all its front teeth.

♥️

Sometimes gratitude is:

The person who called.

The chair beside the window.

Finding your keys.

A warm blanket.

Five quiet minutes.

A dog asleep beside you.

Coffee exactly the way you like it.

Someone remembering your name.

Dinner waiting on the table.

Or...

hot dogs and noodles.

And Some Days You May Not Know

I think that's important too.

Because I don't want gratitude to become another way we tell people how they are supposed to feel.

There may be days when someone asks:

“What are you grateful for?”

and the truest answer is:

“I don't know.”

That's allowed.

You don't have to manufacture gratitude because somebody handed you your turn in the circle.

Perhaps instead we can ask a smaller question.

What was warm today?

What tasted good?

Who made you smile?

What made things a tiny bit easier?

What didn't hurt?

What did you notice?

What got you through?

And perhaps somewhere among those ordinary answers...

something begins to materialize.

Start There

The beautiful thing about my sister's answer wasn't that someone taught her the right thing to say.

Nobody gave her an answer.

They simply helped her find her own.

And once she found it—

she meant it with her whole little heart.

Hands clasped.

Head bowed.

Missing teeth and all.

There was nothing small about her gratitude.

Only something wonderfully ordinary at the center of it.

And perhaps that is something worth remembering.

Not every blessing arrives with trumpets.

Some arrive on a plate.