An Experience of Gratitude

As our national day of giving thanks approaches, I thought I would share an experience of gratitude. In 1977 a woman named Ardeth Greene Kapp wrote a book called Miracles in Pinafores and Bluejeans. In the preface Sister Kapp writes:

"I believe miracles are constantly in the making, but often they go unnoticed because they come in bits and pieces, here and there, and we fail to put them together by removing the time and space that obscures their reality."

But once in a while, Heaven gives us a glimpse of how His handiwork is all over our lives. That happened for me just recently.

I was just a seven year old girl when this book was published, but a few years later, while in my early teens, it somehow fell into my hands. I don't know who gave it to me, but I've had it ever since. One can't forget it after having seen its memorable pink cover and fantastic 70's artwork.

One story from the book especially stood out to me. Sister Kapp was never able to bear children, and she writes about this experience with honesty in one chapter entitled "You're Like a Mother." What I have always remembered is how she had a "cookie drawer" in her house, and the neighborhood children would come and go on a regular basis always free to check its contents.

Why that struck me as a girl, I do not know. But many years later, as I struggled with our own infertility for an emotionally exhausting number of years, I read it again and that image moved and inspired me. I wasn't perfect, not by any stretch, but I was happier because of her example.

Fast forward to just a week ago. I was able to attend an event where Sister Kapp gave a workshop for women. I was excited to see her, having never before been in her presence, but I didn't expect what followed. Prior to the beginning of the event, I was visiting with a group of friends when I noticed two women enter and begin to mingle with the some of the other attendees. Sure enough one of them was Sister Kapp, and she moved toward us introducing herself and saying hello. She's in her 70's I presume now but still full of life and light. I immediately stood and said, "I have a book of yours..."

"It must be Pinafores and Bluejeans."

"Yes!"

"Well, that makes you one of my girls then." And I found myself warmly wrapped up in her arms.

As she walked away, I began to be amazed at the gift she had given me. Here was a person I had never known, but who had pioneered the roughhewn path and left markers for me to follow. She showed me a better way, and rather than wallowing in my own sorrow, I had been lifted up by her example to love and give where I could. It didn't erase the pain during that time, but it certainly made it easier to bear. I found myself wishing that I had thanked her properly.

I watched her across the plaza, and then saw her break from the group and exit alone. I had my chance. I quietly got up and shot toward her.

"Sister Kapp, what I didn't say before was that for the first 10 years of my marriage I was unable to have children of my own. We've since adopted two beautiful children, but during that difficult time I remembered your story about the cookie drawer and how you..." The tears were coming and making it difficult to continue. "Well...you changed my life." The lump in my throat only allowed me to squeak the words, "Thank you."

She hugged me again and whispered in my ear, "That made it worth coming today."

Yes...Sister Kapp, it made it worth it for me.

One of my favorite quotes regarding gratitude comes from a man named John Wanamaker. He says, "Gratitude takes three forms: a feeling in the heart, an expression in words, and a giving in return."

As I've pondered this, I have come to believe that gratitude is only complete when it inspires all three, culminating in our desire to behave differently, to give back. I am still humbled by my experience with Sister Kapp. I have carried admiration and gratitude for her for many years, and to express thanks to a stranger who had such an important impact on my life is a unique and glorious opportunity. Now, I hope to find a way to help another as she has helped me. I don't know how that will happen, but I trust that as I look for opportunities they will come.

God does work in bits and pieces, here and there. That little piece of handiwork took 25 years, and who knows where the circle of good will end. What is even more miraculous than the miracles of our lives is that He allows us to participate in them, to bless and lift others in ways that are often unknown but for the rare glimpse of Heaven's work that inspires us to look closer, to see beyond the bits and pieces and gratefully acknowledge His grand design.