Today we gave thanks. We had family, friends, extended family, and friends of friends joining us. We had food and shelter, hope and kindness, generosity and laughter. In other words, we had the perfect Thanksgiving. Well, except one of our friends was at a hospital waiting for her dad to come out of heart surgery, our son was three thousand miles away from us, and two of my nieces are mourning the loss of their stepdad. But, that’s how life is.

We count ourselves as fortunate. We are rich in all of the important things. We have more luxury, freedom, earning power, and hope for the future than most of the world. Our grand girls have access to education, health care, and nutrition at a level that surpasses even most of the children of our own country. For that reason we must feel humbled and grateful. For that reason we are compelled to teach them that we need to try to make other children’s lives better. The best lesson they have learned is that some kids’ lives suck. It taught them to be champions of the oppressed and opened their hearts to the art of philanthropy. I am grateful for my grandgirls’ valiant and loving hearts.

The house was full with children running through at crazy speeds. The trampoline may still be bouncing. The grown ups had a dance lesson from “Baby Ozi”, who toddled around with a set of hand weights he had found, occasionally dropping one on someone’s foot. Miranda managed to chop chives without chopping her fingers and Riley just kept slamming down deviled eggs until they were gone. Does anybody ever have leftover deviled eggs? How many do you have to make in order to achieve that? Three, four dozen?