I learned my first lesson of thanksgiving at the late age of 16 from a wonderful man, my father. We had just lost every last bit of our belongs in the Sanderson flood of 1965.
Of course my first reaction was a tearful one, but as soon as the first sob came out of my heart, Papi hushed it with his firm words, “Be thankful that we did not lose our lives.
We came so close.”
I followed my dad's example of being grateful for the wonderful friends and strangers who helped us replenish our belongings and for Red Cross volunteers and funds. To this day and above all, I thank God for the ten minutes that separated my family from death.
Along with his lesson of giving thanks, my unselfish dad taught me to share whatever we have without asking whether the recipient is worthy or not or expecting anything in return. In today's world we gripe about the welfare system simply because some individuals abuse it. Papi would say judging others negates any good we do. We complain because immigrants who have been residing in our country for years will finally get amnesty. Papi would say that could be us.
I will not let him down; I will forever be thankful fo his teachings.