From the book “Being Enough” by Chieko N. Okazaki:
One of the greatest blessings the gospel offers us the opportunity to both give and receive from the depths of a thankful heart. But this is a topic on which there’s also a certain amount of sentimental nonsense. I like this story:
Thanksgiving Day was approaching, and the family had received a Thanksgiving card with the painting of a Pilgrim family on its way to church. Grandma showed the card to her small grandchildren, observing: “The Pilgrim children like to go to church with their mothers and fathers. “Oh, yea?” her young grandson replied, “so why is their dad carrying a rifle?”
Let’s first consider giving, then discuss receiving—and let’s talk about realities, not about sentimentalities.
Giving: Some of you may feel that you have little to give; and compared to the generosity of philanthropists who have organized entire foundations to help them make wise use of their charitable giving, I’m sure that’s true. But all of us are rich in some ways. May I suggest some ways in which you are rich?
First, you are rich in appreciation. One writer tells this story: “The other day I was at a hotel dining room where an orchestra was playing. It was a good orchestra offering well chosen selections, well played. On the way out, impulse prompted me to stop and say, ‘Gentlemen, I have thoroughly enjoyed your playing.’ For a second they almost looked startled. Then all of their faces broke into smiles, and I left them beaming over instruments. My own day went off better, too.
“Another discovery I have made is that it is almost impossible to give away anything in the world without getting something back—provided you are not trying to get something. Usually the return comes in some utterly unexpected form, and it is likely to be months or years later.
“For example, one Sunday morning the post office delivered an important special-delivery letter to my home, though it was addressed to me at my office, and the post office had discharged its obligation by attempting to deliver it there. I wrote the postmaster a note of appreciation. More than a year later I needed a post office box for a new business I was starting. I was told at the window that there were no boxes left, that my name would have to go on a long waiting list. As I was about to leave, the postmaster appeared at the doorway. He overheard the conversation and asked, ‘Wasn’t it you who wrote that letter a year or so ago about delivering a special-delivery to your home?’
“I said it was.” ‘Well,’ [he answered], ‘you certainly are going to have a box in this post office if we have to make one for you. You don’t know what a letter like that means to us. We usually get nothing but kicks.”
“I had a box within an hour. Bread upon the waters!”
. . . .You interact everyday with people who serve the public—such as clerks and bag boys and social workers; some of them, at least provide genuine service. The letters to the editor are full of complaints and protests—and I’m not saying that aren’t justified, But every few days there’s a letter of heartfelt thanks from someone who has no direct way to say “than you” for a rescue, for the kindness of a Good Samaritan, or for an anonymous act of decency! ~Chieko N. Okazaki, Being Enough (Salt Lake City: Deseret Book, 2002) p. 91-93
