It wasn’t really much of a place. For all I knew, it was the original greasy spoon, but when you’re hungry, you don’t care about such things. I was hungry, so I went in and sat down.
The waitress walked to my table, said hello, handed me a menu (well used), and asked how I was. I said I was fine (thanks for asking) and returned the favor, to which she answered with one word: Blessed.
I must have looked somewhat puzzled because she went on to explain that she had woken up that day in her right mind, that she had a good job, and that she was surrounded by good people.
Like she said, Blessed.
I don’t recall what I ordered, but it came with a suitable helping of Humility.
It is not that we are unmindful of our many blessings. Nor are we ungrateful as a people, but counting one’s blessings does not necessarily produce the obvious joy, the feeling, that my waitress conveyed.
Maybe she felt such joy because she remembered another time in her life when she did not wake up in her right mind or did not have a good job and good people around her.
Or maybe she felt such joy because she had learned to appreciate what truly mattered, like a good job at the café.
Humility can be a good teacher by reminding us of the tenuous hold we have on life and so providing a little perspective on the path we have chosen and the goals we do pursue.
Would that we were all so fortunate as to wake up in our right mind, realizing once again that we have good things to do and good people to do them with. Blessed, indeed.
Add a hot fudge sundae at the end of the day … blessings abounding.