This week’s retro piece is from our editor, back when she was a staff writer here at RTF. It is incredibly appropriate for this week and a great way to prepare ourselves for Thanksgiving. So read and enjoy! (And don’t forget, our video contest ends on Thanksgiving so grab that camera and show us how you text before time runs out!) ~ Halee

by RTF Editor BJ Hamrick

I took a poll today. Kind of anonymous, really. Kind of unintentional.

“Are you ready for Thanksgiving?” I asked the question with an innocent look. I was trying to make small talk. Trying to distract the elderly man from the pain of the needle I’d just inserted into his arm.

The man looked up at me, his eyes sullen with exhaustion. His short answer shocked me:

“Yes.”

My eyes rolled with annoyance. This man gave me a one word answer? Why wasn’t he talking? Why wasn’t he sharing about his plans for Thanksgiving Day?

“Ask him why he’s thankful,” something in the back of my mind suggested. “Ask him why he’s celebrating this Thanksgiving.”

Oh joy.

There was no way I was going to ask this man why he was thankful. There was no way he was going to answer in more than one word.

I could only imagine. I’d say something like, “So — why are you thankful?”

The man would pause momentarily to contemplate deeply the philosophical meaning of my question. After a few moments he’d burst out with a one word revelation like, “food”.

If, perchance, the man found the words to ask me why I was thankful, I’d inevitably say something desperately wrong, like, “I’m thankful because I’M the one holding the needle.”

I blushed at the thought.

Yet I couldn’t push the idea out of my mind: “Ask him why he’s thankful… ask him why he’s thankful…”

The air went dead with silence.

My lips formed the words, “So — why are you thankful?”

I looked away from the man’s unshaven face, hoping that he wouldn’t notice my rising blush line. The air once again went dead with silence… and my eyes once again rolled with annoyance.

“I have a lot to be thankful for,” the man finally stuttered as he looked up at me. “My daughter just survived a horrible accident. She’s only the second person in the history of this hospital to have her aorta ripped out and replaced successfully. I’ll spend the day with her tomorrow.”

I looked down at the man, a tear welling up in my eye. I could see an incredible change in his face. A light radiated from his tired eyes.

The man continued to share with me about his daughter, and the tragic accident she’d somehow survived. He continued to tell me how thankful he was to have her with him on this earth. After a few moments, the
procedure was finished and I said goodbye to the unshaven man. He smiled as he waved — his last words spoke gratitude. “Happy Thanksgiving,” he said.

Six hours later, patient after patient had entered the treatment room, many of them desperately tired of fighting horrible illness. I found myself asking them the same question:

“Are you ready for Thanksgiving?”

This question was inevitably followed by the other: “Why are you thankful?”

The changes in these patient’s faces were almost shocking. Eyes that were once filled with pain now shined with joy. Lips that were once formed with frowns now smiled with radiance.

It was an odd poll, really. It was unintentional. But it taught me something incredibly important: lives are changed by the giving of thanks.

I know that mine will never quite be the same.