Happily Ever After: The Life-Changing Power of a Grateful Heart (13 page)

       
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Jules, age three: “I am thankful for my friend Sophie ’cause I love her and we eat lollipops at dance class.”

       
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Brielle, age seven: “I’m grateful that I have my family, nature, and my freedom.”

       
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Estela, age four: “I’m grateful for my family, for my brother, for my dog Toulouse, for my beautiful house and room, for going to Disney, for going to gymnastics, my beautiful friends, for Jesus and the angels, my
abuelos
and Gran-mama and Pop, and everything I have, my cousins, all my toys, that my mommy had me, that Papa is a king and Mama a queen. . . .” (In the interest of time, her mommy, Ali Landry, pushed the pause button. Seems like she’s on a great course to writing a book on gratitude herself one day!)

       
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Berkley, age three: “I’m grateful for Mommy and Daddy, Sleeping Beauty, Snow White, and everything.”

       
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Jax, age four: “I’m thankful for the trees because they give lots of fruit to people who need food and Spider-Man because he protects us.”

E
DUCATION AT
I
TS
B
EST

In early 2012, I was contacted by Stephanie Rea, a teacher who follows me on Twitter. She wanted to know my thoughts
on using the “favorite part of the day” activity in her classroom. She got the idea from my nightly posts and decided the activity could be beneficial for her students. I couldn’t have been more excited! The school setting seemed like the perfect place for a daily reflection of gratitude.

I found out later that not only had Stephanie gotten her students to bring a great part of the day to the forefront of their thoughts, but she implemented use of a “My Blessings” book where they kept a log of each day’s happy memory.

After starting her class’s gratitude program, she wrote me to say, “Thank you for the idea. It’s amazing how taking one minute out of a busy day to reflect can change your view on life! You are inspirational and my students are thankful for this!”

Right back at ya, Stephanie. Thank you for recognizing the possibility for change and having such a special impact on the children in your community. Keep up the
great
work!

G
ENERATIONS OF
G
RATITUDE

No matter your title at work—president, manager, executive assistant—if you are a parent, caring for your children is the most important job you have, or it should be. Most likely, it’s also the most selfless job you have. Certainly one without monetary compensation and probably without even simple thanks, especially if you are the parent of an infant or teenager. You may not hear voluntary expressions of gratitude come out of their little (or
big)
mouths every day, but the rewards run so much deeper, and you can take them with you for years and years to come.

Knowing how wonderful it feels to have my kids say “I love you, Mommy” without prompting makes me question how often I gave my own parents those special rewards of acknowledgment when I was a child. I realize now that it wasn’t nearly as frequently as I should have. I obviously can’t change the past. What I can do is honor my parents’ legacy.

Before our kids were born, Ryan and I decided that one of the most profound ways to do that was through the names we chose for their grandchildren. Our firstborn, Maxwell Alston Sutter, shares his middle name with “Grampa B” (Ryan’s dad), and our baby girl was given my mother’s maiden name: Blakesley. Upon hearing the news about her namesake, my mother sent me this note: “This is the most incredible ‘gratitude gift’ I could ever receive,” she wrote. “It says ‘thank you for all you did when I was growing up,’ it says ‘thank you to Grandma and Grandpa for being who they are.’ It says, ‘I’m proud of my family.’ It is a gift that will always be remembered! Love you, Mama!”

I hope that every time my children hear their names, a little happy spark inside them reminds them of the legacy of their family, a legacy to be proud of.

T
RADITIONAL
T
HANKS

Every year, on the fourth Thursday of November, Americans gather around dining room tables or card tables or anywhere they can find a spot, and feast in honor of a day that originally celebrated a successful harvest. A national Thanksgiving Day holiday was the brainchild of Sarah Josepha Hale, an influential American writer and editor who lobbied five US presidents to officially observe a day that, for years, only New England
celebrated. After reading her letter, President Abraham Lincoln agreed, deciding our country needed a little positive focus during the struggles of the Civil War. Smart woman—and man.

Besides the annual trip from St. Louis to Evansville, Indiana, and devouring my grandmother’s homemade mashed potatoes and candied yams, my family never really established any traditions of giving thanks. As the mother of our family’s next generation, that’s one thing I decided to change. My friend Evin gave me the perfect idea of how to do that.

Every year she can remember, and probably even before that, the Thanksgiving celebration in Evin’s family has started exactly the same way. When the turkey and fixin’s are about ready, the family gathers around the dining room table, which is rich in history and memories—it has been around since 1920 and was once owned by her great-grandparents. Everyone holds hands. After saying grace, Evin’s father, Tom Garret-son, asks for a moment of silence: “Let’s remember those who have stood here before us and those who can’t be with us.” He then proceeds to squeeze the hand of the person to his right, who then squeezes the hand of the person to his or her right, and so on, until those squeezes wrap around the entire table, connecting everyone with a simple gesture of love. Then, from youngest to oldest, each person reveals one thing he or she is grateful for. It’s a tradition that fills their hearts and souls in a much more lasting way than even the most delicious turkey, stuffing, cranberry sauce, and pumpkin pie can do.

We may not have an antique table to circle around in our home, but I am committed to making sure that all the other pieces of their gratitude puzzle find a place with us this Thanksgiving and every year thereafter. Thanks, Evin!

F
OLLOW
M
Y
L
EAD

American writer Clarence Budington Kelland once said something that really resonates with me, something I think about every day: “He didn’t tell me how to live; he lived, and let me watch him do it.”

Nothing proves the veracity of this sentiment like living with a preschooler. If I raise my voice at our anxiety-ridden Yorkie, Tank—who barks so intensely when we leave the house that our neighborhood must think we should be reported to PETA—I know that my kids will start mimicking me, pleading with the dog to take it down a notch or twelve as my voice rises a notch or twelve.

The same goes for the flip side. When I catch Blakesley rocking her doll, Baby Mia, to sleep, saying, “It’s okay, baby,” and reading her stories, my heart swells with the knowledge that the countless hours I’ve done the same with her on my lap have made an impression.

We look to the elders in our life—friends, teachers, aunts and uncles, and those we have to thank for our very existence—to show us how it’s done, especially when we’re young.

Through a friend, I learned of a graduation speech for the University of Pennsylvania’s class of 2012, which was published on the website Daily Good. It was given by Nipun Mehta, founder of
ServiceSpace.org
. As the ending to his speech that May, he shared a story with the graduates about his great-grandfather that I found particularly touching and relevant. I didn’t have the chance to get to know my great-grandparents, but if I had, I’d have wanted them to be just like this man.

I want to close with a story about my great-grandfather. He was a man of little wealth who still managed to give every single day of his life. Each morning, he had a ritual of going on a walk—and as he walked, he diligently fed the anthills along his path with small pinches of wheat flour. Now that is an act of micro generosity so small that it might seem utterly negligible, in the grand scheme of the universe. How does it matter? It matters in that it changed him inside. And my great-grandfather’s goodness shaped the worldview of my grandparents who in turn influenced that of their children—my parents. Today those ants and the anthills are gone, but my great-grandpa’s spirit is very much embedded in all my actions and their future ripples. It is precisely these small, often invisible, acts of inner transformation that mold the stuff of our being, and bend the arc of our shared destiny.

On your walk, today and always, I wish you the eyes to see the anthills and the heart to feed them with joy.

May you be blessed. Change yourself—change the world.

My sorority sister Casley told me of a sweet nightly activity she does with her son Sam. As she tucks him in and turns on his nightlight, filling the ceiling with stars, they each choose one, make a wish, and say something they are thankful for. If you don’t have a similar nightlight, improvise with the stars outside or even something like eyelashes or belly buttons. It’s not only a way to remind yourself of your blessings, but also to create a bond
with your child that will continue long past their brief childhood.

At our friend Joel Dekanich’s fortieth birthday party, his kids read forty reasons they are grateful for their dad. What a special way to celebrate! This can be used for anything—birthdays, holidays, anniversaries, or just as a thank-you-for-being-you moment.