In the worst season of my life, it was snowing. I came downstairs at 7:30 am to find that someone had scraped the ice and snow from my car windows outside the apartment, and all I had to do was get inside and go to work.

That someone was my dad.

This morning, I drove for approximately four hours in the rain. When I left for small town USA on Saturday morning, I noticed how clean the vehicle seemed, and mile after mile I hoped the bugs would stay away from my clear view.

For the most part, they did.

Today, as I drove, I was very grateful for the way the water just beaded and raced up the windshield, allowing me to see the road just fine without having to use the windshield wipers.

It reminded me of the times in the past when my dad would treat the windshield with Rain-X and how fascinated I was that it eliminated any need for windshield wipers.

And then I wondered if my dad had washed the car and Rain-Xed the windshield.

And for a good portion of the four hours in the rain, I thought about my dad, and how he still takes care of me, even in my 50+ years.

It made me very grateful.

Not only grateful for Dad and Rain-X and pretty water beading, but also grateful for…

• Sam’s employees who give him such joy.
• a picture my brother sent to me.
• memories of singing, “I’ve got joy, down in my heart, deep deep down in my heart,” with students and choirs – “and nothing can destroy it, ‘stroy it, ‘stroy it, HYAH!”

• a face peeking out of a van, yelling, “You’re the best, Ama!” and then five little ones running across the parking lot to hug my legs one more time before we parted ways.
• having my family together again.
• five hours of nothing but my thoughts and conversation with God, serenaded by raindrops on windows.
• a couple of friends who sent me Monday messages today.

When I recollect the treasure of friendship that has been bestowed upon me, I withdraw all charges against life. If much has been denied me, much, very much, has been given me. So long as the memory of certain beloved friends lives in my heart, I shall say that life is good. – Helen Keller

• good music on a porch.
• cards in the mail.
• the purr of a kitten.
• the devotion of a dog.
• sticky fingers and “I love you’s” of granddaughters.
• soapy water and clean towels.

• watching Sam enjoy life.
• memories of working concession stands with my students.
• spending one day with Katrina.
• finally finishing a book.
• chips and salsa.
• Lisa and Abbie.
• KState and Chiefs wins, when they win. Royals, gotta love ya, but turn out the lights, the party’s over.
• Watching Karissa mama. It’s a verb when your name is Karissa and you have six little ducks.

• songs that make me happy and cause revival, like the one at the top.

When you exist in the beautiful state of gratitude, you become a person who only wants to give. You become so grateful that it takes over your life, and you can’t find enough opportunities in a day to give. You give joy, you give love, you give money, you give appreciation, you give compliments, and you give kindness. You give the best of yourself in your job, in your relationships, and to strangers.

You will know when you have really found true gratitude, because you will become a giver. One who is truly grateful cannot be anything else. – From my boss and friend, Karen, torn from a page of one of her daily readings