Small Things Are Worthy of Great Gratitude

Small Things Are Worthy of Great Gratitude

Small Things Are Worthy of Great Gratitude

Small things are worthy of great gratitude. I know this. You know this. Every parent raising a child with special needs knows this. Even so, I consistently ignore the small blessings God does provide and fixate on the big things I think He should provide.

Are you with me on this? Are you having a hard time coming up with much to be grateful for this Thanksgiving? If you are, I invite you to join in a new holiday tradition.

I call it thinking small.

Instead of wracking your brain for the big things God did for you and your loved ones in the past year, make a list of small things. It took me less than 5 minutes to come up with 10 small things I’m grateful for this Thanksgiving.

Here they are.

  1. Mom’s Fabulous Franklin Chex Mix recipe. It is so good!
  2. Grandma Conrad’s Never-Fail Pie Crust recipe. It’s the only pie crust recipe that works every time. And it’s the foundation of pie, my favorite dessert.
  3. The smell of onions and celery being sautéed for stuffing on Thanksgiving morning. (I don’t like stuffing, but I LOVE that smell.)
  4. My mom is 91 and will be with us for the holiday. How many 63-year-olds have their mothers with them on Thanksgiving?

To read the rest of Small Things Are Worthy of Great Gratitude, visit Key Ministry’s blog for special needs parents.

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Jolene Philo is a published author, speaker, wife, and mother of a son with special needs.

 

 

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Broccoli Obama and Presidential Trivia All Over Again

Broccoli Obama and Presidential Trivia All Over Again

The Presidents' Day trivia I shared with kids was nothing compared to the presidential tidbits of knowledge they shared with me! For those of you who keep track the answer is yes. Yes, I posted on the Friday following Presidents’ Day a year ago. But because this week marked Barak Obama’s final year as president, the following post from the archives is the only possible choice for today. Plus, the memory of leading this lesson with kids at our church still makes me snort through my nose when I think about it. Here’s hoping it makes you snort, too.

Last Sunday, I created a lesson for an evening activity for kids at our church. The task unleashed my latent school teacher. By the time the kids arrived, I was armed and dangerous. I had a plethora of Presidents’ Day trivia about Washington and Lincoln as well as coloring sheets, and word searches. Little did I know how much the children would add to that great body of knowledge.

The first group of kids were first through third graders who knew Monday was Presidents’ Day. They thought the holiday had something to do with birthdays, but needed some pretty broad hints before they landed on George and Abe.

“But they’re both dead,” one child announced. “When is our real president’s birthday?”

“Oh yeah,” a girl chimed in. “He has a funny name. It’s hard to remember.” The entire group agreed with her. They hemmed and hawed, trying to remember the real president’s name.

“His name reminds me of that one vegetable.” She thought for a moment, and her face lit up. “Broccoli!” she exclaimed. “His name sounds like broccoli.”

“Oh yeah!” everyone chorused. “Broccoli Obama!”

Giggle.

The next group of kids were four and five-year-olds. Amazingly, they named Broccoli Barack Obama without batting an eye.

When asked what the president does, one little boy answered confidently. “He rides around in a car and kills bad guys.”

“No,” another boy disagreed. “President Obama is a good leader.”

Unfortunately, good leadership didn’t have the same allure as a sound bite about riding around in a car killing bad guys. Most of the kids bought into the car theory and stuck with it, even while they colored pictures of Abe Lincoln’s log cabin and the young George Washington working as a surveyor.

“See this?” A sandy-haired boy pointed to some orange lines he’d drawn on the log cabin’s doorway. “That’s a booby trap so bad guys can’t get in.”

“See this?” A little blond guy pointed to George’s surveying equipment. “That bottom part turns into the gun for killing bad guys.”

Sigh.

The final group were fourth and fifth graders. They breezed through the President’s Day trivia, and were surprised to hear that George and Martha never lived there. They even knew the first White House burned down and had to be rebuilt.

“Yeah,” a serious boy said. “That kind of thing still happens. My mom told me that some tourists ran a train into the Octagon, too.”

I thought for a moment. “Do you mean Pentagon?”

“Yeah! That’s it. The Pentagon!”

The boy beside him added to the confusion. “And some other tourists ran a plane into a tall building in New York City.”

“The Twin Towers,” I explained. “They were terrorists, not tourists. That happened in 2001.”

“2001?” The Octagon tourist reporter did some figuring in his head. “That was two years before I was born.”

The boy beside him pointed at the coloring pictures. “Can we do those?” They colored industriously, sure as only children can be, that their parents and their country’s president, Broccoli Obama, will kill the bad guys and keep them safe from tourists attacking the Octagon.

Pray.

Photo Source: markuso at www.freedigitalphotos.net

Petal Dancing This Fantastic Friday

Petal Dancing This Fantastic Friday

crab apple petal danceThe Man of Steel cut down the dying crab apple tree outside our bedroom window 6 years ago. But the memory of its beauty and my sweet, laughing children remain fresh in my mind, thanks to the post below. I hope it makes you smile.

Earlier this week, the crabapple tree that guards our bedroom window began to flower. Yesterday, in the soft, warm breeze, it began to sluff off it’s blossoms petal by petal in a slow and lovely dance. They looped and twirled and floated along until the west wind set them, ever so gently, between the waiting blades of green, green grass.

I watched them dance, fresh and pink, and thought of my children. One May day years ago, Allen and Anne stood beneath the tree while Hiram shook the branches and petals rained upon their hair and shoulders. Our children danced, their hands raised high to catch the soft flood. Hiram’s mother, here for Mother’s Day, laughed as she snapped picture after picture. Finally the kids, tired and sweaty, flopped onto the greenish-pink, trampled grass.

The tree is dying, has been dying for years, was dying while Hiram shook the branches. All that’s left is one large limb, and we know that this year, after many seasons of procrastination, the tree must come down. “But wait,” I asked my husband, “until it blooms again, until after the petal dance.”

Yesterday, when the breeze arose, I took my mother-in-law’s place behind the camera and took picture after picture of the petal dance. If you look closely, beyond the wind-shaken branch, you can see them falling, – tiny, hazy, pink raindrops. And I think if you are still enough, patient enough, then perhaps you will see what I do: two precious children, arms raised high in a springtime dance, so happy, so young, so loved.

Broccoli Obama and Presidential Trivia All Over Again

Fantastic Friday: Broccoli Obama and Other Presidential Trivia

broccoliFantastic Friday is here again, so it’s time to feature another Gravel Road post from the past. This one first appeared just a year ago, and it was an immediate favorite with readers. Since this week began with President’s Day, it’s a logical and hilarious choice for today. This post first appeared here on February 21, 2014.

Broccoli Obama and Other Presidential Trivia

Last Sunday, I created a lesson for an evening activity for kids at our church. The task unleashed my latent school teacher. By the time the kids arrived, I was armed and dangerous. I had a plethora of Presidents’ Day trivia about Washington and Lincoln as well as coloring sheets, and word searches. Little did I know how much the children would add to that great body of knowledge.

The first group of kids were first through third graders who knew Monday was Presidents’ Day. They thought the holiday had something to do with birthdays, but needed some pretty broad hints before they landed on George and Abe.

“But they’re both dead,” one child announced. “When is our real president’s birthday?”

“Oh yeah,” a girl chimed in. “He has a funny name. It’s hard to remember.” The entire group agreed with her. They hemmed and hawed, trying to remember the real president’s name.

“His name reminds me of that one vegetable.” She thought for a moment, and her face lit up. “Broccoli!” she exclaimed. “His name sounds like broccoli.”

“Oh yeah!” everyone chorused. “Broccoli Obama!”

Giggle.

The next group of kids were four and five-year-olds. Amazingly, they named Broccoli Barack Obama without batting an eye.

When asked what the president does, one little boy answered confidently. “He rides around in a car and kills bad guys.”

“No,” another boy disagreed. “President Obama is a good leader.”

Unfortunately, good leadership didn’t have the same allure as a sound bite about riding around in a car killing bad guys. Most of the kids bought into the car theory and stuck with it, even while they colored pictures of Abe Lincoln’s log cabin and the young George Washington working as a surveyor.

“See this?” A sandy-haired boy pointed to some orange lines he’d drawn on the log cabin’s doorway. “That’s a booby trap so bad guys can’t get in.”

“See this?” A little blond guy pointed to George’s surveying equipment. “That bottom part turns into the gun for killing bad guys.”

Sigh.

The final group were fourth and fifth graders. They breezed through the President’s Day trivia, and were surprised to hear that George and Martha never lived there. They even knew the first White House burned down and had to be rebuilt.

“Yeah,” a serious boy said. “That kind of thing still happens. My mom told me that some tourists ran a train into the Octagon, too.”

I thought for a moment. “Do you mean Pentagon?”

“Yeah! That’s it. The Pentagon!”

The boy beside him added to the confusion. “And some other tourists ran a plane into a tall building in New York City.”

“The Twin Towers,” I explained. “They were terrorists, not tourists. That happened in 2001.”

“2001?” The Octagon tourist reporter did some figuring in his head. “That was two years before I was born.”

The boy beside him pointed at the coloring pictures. “Can we do those?” They colored industriously, sure as only children can be, that their parents and their country’s president, Broccoli Obama, will kill the bad guys and keep them safe from tourists attacking the Octagon.

Pray.

Readers, if you have a favorite past post you’d like me to republish some Fantastic Friday, just leave a note in the comment box. I’ll do my best to make it happen.

Broccoli Obama and Presidential Trivia All Over Again

Broccoli Obama and Other Presidental Trivia

broccoli

Last Sunday, I created a lesson for an evening activity for kids at our church. The task unleashed my latent school teacher. By the time the kids arrived, I was armed and dangerous. I had a plethora of Presidents’ Day trivia about Washington and Lincoln as well as coloring sheets, and word searches. Little did I know how much the children would add to that great body of knowledge.

The first group of kids were first through third graders who knew Monday was Presidents’ Day. They thought the holiday had something to do with birthdays, but needed some pretty broad hints before they landed on George and Abe.

“But they’re both dead,” one child announced. “When is our real president’s birthday?”

“Oh yeah,” a girl chimed in. “He has a funny name. It’s hard to remember.” The entire group agreed with her. They hemmed and hawed, trying to remember the real president’s name.

“His name reminds me of that one vegetable.” She thought for a moment, and her face lit up. “Broccoli!” she exclaimed. “His name sounds like broccoli.”

“Oh yeah!” everyone chorused. “Broccoli Obama!”

Giggle.

The next group of kids were four and five-year-olds. Amazingly, they named Broccoli Barack Obama without batting an eye.

When asked what the president does, one little boy answered confidently. “He rides around in a car and kills bad guys.”

“No,” another boy disagreed. “President Obama is a good leader.”

Unfortunately, good leadership didn’t have the same allure as a sound bite about riding around in a car killing bad guys. Most of the kids bought into the car theory and stuck with it, even while they colored pictures of Abe Lincoln’s log cabin and the young George Washington working as a surveyor.

“See this?” A sandy-haired boy pointed to some orange lines he’d drawn on the log cabin’s doorway. “That’s a booby trap so bad guys can’t get in.”

“See this?” A little blond guy pointed to George’s surveying equipment. “That bottom part turns into the gun for killing bad guys.”

Sigh.

The final group were fourth and fifth graders. They breezed through the President’s Day trivia, and were surprised to hear that George and Martha never lived there. They even knew the first White House burned down and had to be rebuilt.

“Yeah,” a serious boy said. “That kind of thing still happens. My mom told me that some tourists ran a train into the Octagon, too.”

I thought for a moment. “Do you mean Pentagon?”

“Yeah! That’s it. The Pentagon!”

The boy beside him added to the confusion. “And some other tourists ran a plane into a tall building in New York City.”

“The Twin Towers,” I explained. “They were terrorists, not tourists. That happened in 2001.”

“2001?” The Octagon tourist reporter did some figuring in his head. “That was two years before I was born.”

The boy beside him pointed at the coloring pictures. “Can we do those?” They colored industriously, sure as only children can be, that their parents and their country’s president, Broccoli Obama, will kill the bad guys and keep them safe from tourists attacking the Octagon.

Pray.

Photo Source: markuso at www.freedigitalphotos.net