Milena Moser at the Gratitude Festival: Thank you, life!

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When we were still living in Switzerland and my eldest son was in third grade, I was called to an emergency meeting at school. This time he was confused by the essay. “The things I need to be happy” was the theme, a deep and meaningful statement.

Most of the children immediately saw through the educational intent and dutifully listed their families, friends, nature and, for good measure, the world. All over the world, of course. Another thing was my son, who needed a time machine, fast horses and weapons. Guns! This implied a willingness to use violence. The fact that I was known at the time for my murder stories didn’t help the situation.

I took a deep breath and suggested asking the culprit himself what he meant. Without hesitation, he explained that he wanted to take a time machine to North America exactly the day before Columbus landed there. He would then warn the natives of that continent and supply them with horses and guns.

It was one of the brightest moments of my life.

Six months later, the same boy stood on stage in an American school play, dressed as a homesteader, wearing a black hat and bow tie. He kept putting his finger in his collar as if it was choking him. We, the parents, also sat in the audience completely stunned when the children came on stage dressed as locals, with loincloths and feather headdresses.

They brought with them ears of corn, pumpkins and turkeys and thus saved the settlers during the first harsh winter. It is well known what they owed for their hospitality, but in this context it is completely ignored. No contaminated blankets or bottles of whiskey were handed out, but at the end everyone was dancing around the table holding hands, even the two turkeys. And we suddenly understood how history is written.

We were about to write off Thanksgiving as a holiday when our homeowners invited us old hippies to question the custom and show us the best of it. “It’s about being together,” they said. “It’s about friendship, food and gratitude.” Before cutting into the pumpkin pie, we all had to take a moment to think and then list the things we were most grateful for in that moment.

At first it seemed strange to me, somehow intimate and therefore awkward. I don’t remember what I said when it was my turn, but I remember that my mood immediately lifted noticeably. And since then I have been doing this regularly. Because it always works, even on the dullest gray winter day I can find something beautiful, something warm, something bright.

So: thank you, life. Thank you for the last ten years. Thank you for the gift of growing up.

“Today marks exactly 23 years since I was first told that I had six months to live,” Victor said recently. Thanks for that too.

Thank you for your unpredictability, life. Thank you for your stubbornness. Thank you for the unexpected moments of happiness, meeting, insight. Thank you for the last few years, for the wrinkles, sleepless nights, worries and fears. Thank you for always showing me the way out. Thank you for the confidence based on experience: somehow it always works. Not always right away, but always somehow.

Source: Blick