In Spite of Everything, We Give Thanks

Ariel Smith

Good morning...

My name is Ariel and I suspect I was invited to speak today because I have recently been given a great gift: 6 months ago this weekend my husband and I welcomed our first child into the world. Becoming a mother has been challenging on so many levels and at the same time, it has meant the fulfillment of my earliest aspiration.

I love this job more and more every day and when first asked to speak on the topic of gratitude, I fully expected I'd use the time to tell you all about it...

...until I sat down and started writing.

My father in law has a deep belief in karma. He used to tell me that even if his son hadn't left India to come here for graduate school, we still would have fallen in love and married. Since my own understanding of karma is so new, I can't help but feel grateful to the admissions person at West Virginia University who offered Ajit a place. Really, whoever that man or woman was, they changed my life. And though I will never get to tell them, I'm so very grateful for the life I now have:

• a loving partner,

• a healthy, and happy child,

• a warm home,

• good food on my table.

All this I expected to share with you.

What I didn't expect was to be overcome by gratitude for my American culture. Let me explain why.

I grew up in a religious community that put no stock in human governance. We did not vote and believed only God's kingdom could save us. I was somewhere in my early 20s, working in an elementary school when I first clumsily recited the pledge of allegiance.

Now, the experience of being married into a family from a very traditional culture has shed a personal light on what it means to me that I was born an American.

Though a list of what I'm most grateful for does, indeed, include a number of belongings that make life easier, it's not the stuff of my culture I'm getting at here.

What I want you to know about why I'm grateful to be an American began with my birth. It's that I was born to parents to whom it didn't matter that I was born a girl. It's that I would have the same opportunities as my brothers, the same status as a full and valuable member of my family.

My cultural pride is not over-run with loud drums and bright colors.

No, it's tender and new, much like my infant child.

It has trickled down into my consciousness so quietly I hardly knew it was there, didn't even recognize it until pressed to put it on this page.

For all this and more, I offer this short prayer: Dear God, thank you, thank you, thank you.

John Cahoon

Good morning. My name is John Cahoon.

Many of you here today, have had nasty things suddenly happen to you, and everything changes.

Your outlook, your direction, sometimes, your whole life is now different.

Such has happened to me.

And then along comes this question: In spite of everything, isn't there something that you can be grateful for?

So, I thought I would address that question to the gods – who may, or may not be there. An interesting, Unitarian approved, spiritual exercise.

My appeal went something like this:

Oh you gods, who ever you are, if you are, what about this grateful stuff?

I've got cancer, and I've got celiac disease, which means I can no longer eat wheat. I can no longer have bread. I can no longer have sticky buns.

Silence!

And then, the quiet is shattered by the sound of a very loud and raucous raspberry.

One has to be careful about putting questions to the gods. Sometimes they answer.

Well, of course, I have a great deal to be thankful for.

I have been diagnosed with Multiple Myeloma, a type of blood cancer. It is not curable, but it is manageable, and I seem to be managing it very well. I am grateful for that.

The cure for celiac disease is eliminate wheat from your diet. I am not so grateful for that.

Another astounding blessing is this congregation. Here, a loving and caring community has been built. We help and support each other, and not just in time of severe need. We build great friendships. This is a good place to be, and I am grateful for all of you.

I am blessed with a wonderful family. I have two daughters that I can actually talk to – they are a joy to be with. There are two grandchildren – twins – a boy and a girl. They are 2 ½ years old. They are exploring the world, and they are into everything. The boy runs all the time – I don't think he knows how to walk.

There is one thing that I am most grateful for, and that is my wife, Lynne. She is the love of my life, and my greatest treasure. She is my: associate, assistant, caregiver, helper, buddy, sidekick, bedfellow, chum, lover, comrade, mate, companion, pal, playmate, confidante, cohort, and confrere.

That should about cover it.

We were married in this church 44 years ago. We have gotten along very well over the years, and I think mainly because we both have such a low level sense of humor. Both of us can laugh at anything: the world - each other. It does not matter.

We sang a hymn here a couple of weeks ago, and every time I hear it, I think of Lynne. I will read the chorus.

“And I'll bring you hope when hope is hard to find,
and I'll bring a song of love,
and a rose in the winter time.”

I am truly blessed. I am eternally grateful, and I thank all of you.

Natalie DaSilva

What I have to share with you this morning is about the power of love in difficult times. It’s for this that I give thanks.

My sweetheart, Rob, is a cancer survivor. In September we learned that his cancer had returned. I had wondered, when we met in 2006, how I would handle it, if this ever happened. And how my son, Dandy, would. He wasn’t quite 10 when Rob and I met.

A very wise person told me back then, that you just hope there will be enough love to handle it.

With the bad news of the recurrence, followed by some possibly worse news, came uncertainty and waiting. It was hard, but in facing the cancer, and, I believe, because of the cancer, we all found an abundance of love.

Cancer is humbling, and in this humbling there is so much. Digging down deep in ourselves and reaching out wide to others, we found gold.

Rob and I were enveloped in love by family, friends and Rob’s “Healing Team”. You, the UUCB community, held us with your thoughts and prayers. Your “supercard” arrived the day before Rob’s biopsy.

For the two of us, Rob and me, our love grew. We connected with the deep, spiritual reasons that had brought us together. We saw each other clearly. Other concerns in the relationship just fell away. Though we still live apart, our lives have become more connected. Rob has joined UUCB. Rob and Dandy found new, endearing ways to express their love for one another.

This love brought even more blessings.

From its strength, I found ways to give thanks and find beauty in the midst of it all. Thanks that the news was only bad and not horrible. That the clouds were especially beautiful on a drive to Stanford Medical Center one day. That Rob and I were together, and I had so much to learn from his courage and wisdom.

In those moments of thanks, of beautiful clouds and of love, I was able to feel solid amidst the groundlessness. Without looking too far ahead or to either side, those moments were enough. The power of love faced the fear, and found faith and hope.

The outcome has been all we could have possibly hoped for. Rob’s surgery was successful; no more cancer was found; he is recovering well. For all this, and especially to the healing power of love and prayer, I give thanks.