Across the room from me, I noticed a woman trying to knit as her hands shook violently. A silky scarf dangled from the knitting needles in hazy purple hues.
At one point during the meeting, the attendees passed a piece of paper around the room for us to sign in.
She struggled to hold the paper, let alone sign her name.
Whoever is getting that scarf should greatly appreciate it. That moment reminded me of how incredibly blessed I am.
Yet it will pass, and we always float in a river of blessings. Yet we easily forget, as the world icily nips at our hearts, creating an eclipse of despair.
As I watched the knitter fight the feisty yarn, I hoped the person to receive the scarf would appreciate the struggle of love.
Then I remembered how blessed I am, and a wave of gratitude painted a smile upon my soul.
A shaft of gratitude glimmered within and I danced a song of perspective.
We always have something to be grateful for.