Simplistic Gratitude
I can remember my childhood room. The walls were blue and the
floor was
a plush carpeting of the same color. One of the walls was wall-papered
in
a sail boat print. This room made me so happy. I was the envy
of all the
boys in the neighborhood. The room was always filled with lots
of toys
and fun things to do. The only time that I did not like my room
was
when I was being punished. Then my room became my prison. The
loss of freedom
hurt.
However, the real pain was the loss of love, or at least what
I thought was a loss of love. I would sit in my room and count the
sail boats on the wall waiting for dad to decide to love me again
and release me from my prison.
The bright blue walls are gone. Now the color resembles a dirty
yellowing
white like a hundred smokers took a cigarette break in my six
by nine
foot cell. Three of the walls are made of cement block. There
are two
hundred and sixteen blocks that make up my walls. Although the
drab paint
is many layers thick, I can still count each and every block, which
is
something I do daily. I look at each block as I call out its
number, a ritual
that I have performed each and every day since I have been
sentenced here. Two
thousand one hundred and ninety times I have counted the blocks
in
the walls.
The floor is a concrete slab; no plush carpeting here. It is
stained a
black mildew color. The floor and the walls are always cold.
I don't
believe the temperature ever changes in here. I always feel damp
and cold as I
sit here all alone in my cell. I can remember with a smile mom
always
saying to me, "Son, get your slippers on, you'll catch your death."
I sure
do miss her.
It has been fifty two thousand five hundred and sixty hours since
our
last visit.
The fourth wall is a little different; it is made of solid steel.
This wall holds my only window. My only view of the outside world.
It is a
long narrow window, roughly five shoes high and one large hand
wide. It
does not open. Then again rarely does the door. This two inch
thick
glass is what I call my window to my world. Through it, I can
view the
other ten feet of my existence, five feet to the left and five feet
to the
right.
When I was first punished, I sat here wondering how long it would
be before God would love me again and give me back my freedom.
Then
one day, as I was counting my blocks, I started to remember things
about my boyhood room. During my childhood, as I sat in my room,
I was
thankful I had so much that dad had given me, such as a remote
controlled car
and lots of games to make me think. Now, in here, I began to ask myself
what
I could be thankful for. I took notice of the company I shared
my cell with.
"Ha," you say, I have gone mad being in solitary. I am not mad.
I have a
family of ants for company! This I am thankful for. Yes, unless
you are
all alone and kept out of touch it is hard to realize what a
blessing
and how good it is just to see something living.
In the morning, I save sugar from my meal to feed them, when
they
come for their daily visit with me. But their visit is only for
a few
short hours.
One day, I noticed how hard the ants worked carrying their sugar
away. I said to myself, "I don't have to carry my food. God gives
it to me
everyday here in my room." One day during a rain I thought the ants
house
outside is getting wet, yet my cell is dry and I have a soft bed and
blanket.
I've read about people in foreign lands that are refugees with
nowhere to
sleep and nothing to eat and think how blessed I am.
As a child I came to realize that I was a loved son. Dad only
punished me
so I would learn that my wrongs hurt the good he tried to give
me.
Now as an adult, yet a child of God locked in my cell, God has
shown me
that I have been given so much. Yet out there I lived too fast to see
it. Too
fast to eat a hot meal. Too fast to write a letter home.
Too fast to
appreciate a living creature like an ant. Now I see how blessed I am,
a loving family
waiting for me at home just as my heavenly family and God waits for
me.
Simplistic gratitude. To you I say look at my simplistic gratitude
and
realize just how much you have to be thankful for: your job,
your house,
freedom to walk in the sunshine, the smiles of your loved ones
and
freedom to attend church and sing. In my cell there is only me
and
my ant friends. No songs to hear, no smiling faces to see. I
read Bible
verses to them. We pray for a better world and finally have supper
together
before they leave for the night. Then I sit all alone in my cell.
Take a moment and reflect on all your heavenly Father has blessed
you
with. He really has blessed you even if you are in the same position
I
am.
Perhaps my position is even better than yours. For you may not
have
enough to eat or a place to sleep or have not taken the time
to look at
the love and blessings of God. If this is the case, and your
earthly
life seems too hard or complicated, I pray that God will send
you a smile and
a simple blessing. Even if it is just an ant.