Thanksgiving Miracles

“It’s a Christmas Miracle! No, wait, a Thanksgiving Miracle!”

my roommate Macie exclaimed excitedly as she twirled on the steps leading from the Harris Fine Arts Center, earning peculiar looks from the Utahns around us.  But I wasn’t ashamed by this spectacle.  I was just as enchanted.  

Macie and I had just spent our Friday evening watching Irving Berlin’s musical White Christmas, directed (and required to see) by my theater teacher.  She came along as my date, and I was actually secretly relieved to be with her and not a boy so I could voice my opinions about which chorus boy was the cutest and which 1950’s-inspired styles we should adopt and wishing there were an occasion to wear a huge, sparkly Christmas dress, all reciprocated with similar sentiments and zero judging.  After the finale, featuring REAL bubble snow, we filed out of the theater giddy with the kind of joy only old-fashioned musicals and holiday anticipation can bring.

As we reached the main floor of the fine arts building, a hushed wave came over the room.  Through the glass doors, the world that required a light sweater had been transformed into a winter wonderland.  We tentatively crossed into this alternate universe, fat slushy snowflakes drifting onto our hair and eyelashes.  Blanketed in white down against a glowing sky, with lamp posts illuminating unearthly orbs of snowfall, the campus was one of the most beautiful pictures I’ve ever seen.  Our moment of awe was shattered by a sudden urge to thrust our heads back and stick out our tongues, dancing and squealing gleefully. 

“It’s like Disneyland at Christmastime!” I remarked intelligently.

Only Californians would compare real snow to fake Disneyland snow as opposed to the other way around.

We giggled all the way to the car, unaffected by the patronizing glances of the natives who scuttled past us in embarrassment, their eyes probing, “Sheesh, kid, haven’t you ever seen snow before?” We invented a hilarious game of trying to roll down the snow-caked windows without letting the walls of snow collapse into the car. 

You too may be laughing at the antics of snow-deprived California kids, and I’m sure the novelty will wear off for us as well, but in that magic moment, we recognized a Thanksgiving miracle.  Evidence that a loving Heavenly Father is aware of us and blesses us in unexpected ways, allowing us to see the beauty in what we had dreaded. I began to consider other miracles in my life—a girl at work offered to cover my shift so that I can go home for Thanksgiving and be with my family.  IHOP is open all night for those moments when my roommates and I crave chocolate chip pancakes at 3:00 AM.  TED Talks are free.  It is finally socially acceptable to listen to Christmas music.  The State of California actually responded to my persuasive letter.  I stayed awake through all of my meetings in church today. I had a fantastic Sunday lunch of chocolate-chip waffles with strawberries and caramel syrup.  I have a job. I have made new friends who make me feel good.  I get to reunite with old friends soon. I have been blessed with unique talents and abilities.  I have an able mind and body and the opportunity to expand my knowledge at an incredible university.  I have the best roommates I could ever ask for who have become my best friends and sisters.  I have a knowledge of my Savior Jesus Christ and his infinite Atonement and love for me. 

Yeah, I’d say I’m pretty blessed. Ridiculously blessed.  I don’t know why I am deserving of so many amazing blessings and regret that sometimes I take them for granted.  Recognizing these blessings and using them in turn to bless the lives of others is a lifelong goal and struggle for me.

During this season of thanksgiving, I challenge you to establish a habit of recognizing and expressing gratitude for the blessings in your life.  Think of it as a Thanksgiving Resolution.  In his talk “O Remember, Remember,” President Henry B. Eyring counsels us to ponder daily the question, “Have I seen the hand of God reaching out to touch [me]…or [my] family today?” He recounts, “As I would cast my mind over the day, I would see evidence of what God had done for one of us that I had not recognized in the busy moments of the day. As that happened, and it happened often, I realized that trying to remember had allowed God to show me what He had done.” I know from my own experience that when I am able to identify the blessings I have received, I have much less, if anything, to complain about and am more content with my current circumstances. 

In the immortal words of Irving Berlin, “When you’re worried and you can’t sleep, just count your blessings instead of sheep, and you’ll fall asleep counting your blessings.”