Gratitude is Beautiful

I'm standing in line at the pharmacy, waiting for some drugs, and I glance to my left. There she is. Perfect Woman. I know her at first sight. It's the hair that gives her away -- the waterfall of perfect blonde spiral curls, swishing and swooshing this way and that when she moves her head to look in my direction. I smile at her. I know what she's thinking: "Poor thing. Look at that lifeless, straight hair. I really should count my blessings."

Okay, maybe not. For all I know, maybe she was thinking about the horrible illness that had brought her to the pharmacy in the first place. Maybe she was thinking about an argument she had with her husband or the balance in her checking account or the chicken she needed to defrost for dinner. But I was certain that she wasn't thinking what she should have been thinking: "Thank you, God, for giving me the most gorgeous hair ever."

I came back home from the pharmacy and I tweeted about running into Perfect Woman standing there in line. And within minutes, my friend Wanda who has just finished her final round of chemotherapy and is awaiting the re-growth of her own hair, made a comment about my ugly jealousy: "I'm jealous of a Chia Pet!" Yikes. Good point, there, Wanda. My perspective is duly renewed.

I'm learning, you see. Learning to be grateful for what I have (including my boring, straight blonde hair) as well as what I don't have (including cancer). Gratitude, as it turns out, is quite attractive in a person. I even dare say that gratitude is beautiful.

So, back on the wagon I go. And tomorrow morning when I blow-dry my head of ho-hum hair, I'll think of Perfect Woman and I might feel a tiny twinge of envy (maybe a bit like a knife, twisting between the ribs), but then hopefully, I'll remember to thank God for His amazing love and mercy toward me. And I'll be grateful. And gratitude is beautiful.

I wonder if the people standing beside me in line at the pharmacy will notice.