On this Thanksgiving eve, I’ve included below some words from my two favorite writers: God and G. K. Chesterton. First, a few choice quotations from Chesterton on gratitude:
“When we were children we were grateful to those who filled our stockings at Christmas time. Why are we not grateful to God for filling our stockings with legs?” “I would maintain that thanks are the highest form of thought, and that gratitude is happiness doubled by wonder.” “You say grace before meals. All right. But I say grace before the concert and the opera, and grace before the play and pantomime, and grace before I open a book, and grace before sketching, painting, swimming, fencing, boxing, walking, playing, dancing and grace before I dip the pen in the ink.” “When it comes to life the critical thing is whether you take things for granted or take them with gratitude.”
To you we owe our hymn of praise, O God on Zion; To you our vows must be fulfilled, you who hear our prayers. To you all flesh must come with its burden of wicked deeds. We are overcome by our sins; only you can pardon them. Happy the chosen ones you bring to dwell in your courts. May we be filled with the good things of your house, the blessings of your holy temple! You answer us with awesome deeds of justice, O God our savior, The hope of all the ends of the earth and of far distant islands. You are robed in power, you set up the mountains by your might. You still the roaring of the seas, the roaring of their waves, the tumult of the peoples. Distant peoples stand in awe of your marvels; east and west you make resound with joy. You visit the earth and water it, make it abundantly fertile. God’s stream is filled with water; with it you supply the world with grain. Thus do you prepare the earth: you drench plowed furrows, and level their ridges. With showers you keep the ground soft, blessing its young sprouts. You adorn the year with your bounty; your paths drip with fruitful rain. The untilled meadows also drip; the hills are robed with joy. The pastures are clothed with flocks, the valleys blanketed with grain; they cheer and sing for joy.