I've seen many a sunrise in my life, even a couple from a plane window, but two moments come to mind when I think about the sun coming up in the morning.
Kenya is a country full of stunning natural beauty, but one of the best sights on my trip to Kenya was the sun rising over the community of Salabwek on our last day there. A couple of us had gone out early to get one last look at the school site that had been our workplace for two weeks and the sun was ready to greet us. The sun made everything the most awesome shade of reddish-orange I've ever seen and gave me a sense of hope and happiness for the trip, the project and the great times I had had.
It's nearly three years later, and again, the sunrise has given me a little glimmer of hope. As I have said, I am currently working the over night shift at work, which can get tiring and more than a little discouraging. The first night I was working, I was taking out the garbage (maybe I should start taking the garbage out more) and the sun was beginning to rise. It gave me a little hope. I had survived my first night, and I had been rewarded with an amazing view.
So I am grateful for the sunrise. I am grateful for this phenomenon that gives such beauty to the world and such hope to me. I am grateful that such a sight happens to signal of a new beginning to every day. My dad has a saying I've always remembered; No matter what happens, in the morning the sun will rise and God will still love you.
I've been working at a local Staples, pulling the overnight shift and helping with renovations to the store, which isn't always the most interesting work as you may have guessed. Ink cartridges and multi-coloured Post-its can only captivate a guy for so long.
One day (morning? night?) I was throwing out the garbage into the dumpster behind the store when I noticed a Canadian goose on the grass a few feet away. It was staring through the fence at the cars passing by on the highway at and stayed that way for a good ten minutes before walking off.
This was the most amusing part of my day, which may tell you something about the excitement factor of my job. It was kind of comical to see a goose taking in the cars rushing by as if it was wondering what those big, noisy metal things were and how they were going so fast. Or maybe it was wondering what had happened to its favourite patch of grass, it having been taken over by a huge strip of cement.
It was like a distinguished researcher studying the curiosities of humans instead of the other way around and it was pretty funny and thought-provoking to see the tables turned for once.
So I am grateful for geese by the highway. I am grateful that this great bird was there that day to put even the slightest cheer in me. I am grateful that a sight so simple, but so out of the ordinary, can lead to so many different thoughts and ideas as this picture of a goose looking out onto the highway did. And who knows, maybe this one goose will decide to take a car down south this winter, all because of its experience behind a Staples.
I've seen it done many times before on TV shows, but I never really believed it would happen to me.
Last week, my dad took a few boxes of clothing to Goodwill to give away and amongst those boxes was about half of my clothes. Somehow, when my mom had been storing them for the summer until I went back to school, they had been mixed up with the give away pile and shipped out. I didn't notice until a week later and it was too late to retrieve any of my clothes.
Giving away half my clothes is no big deal really. I have more than enough shirts and pants and everything, but a lot of those clothes had memories attached to them. One sweater was a gift from my girlfriend; another was my journalism hoodie from first year. It's that sort of stuff that made me pretty sad about giving my clothes away.
But what made me feel a lot better was the fact that my clothes went to Goodwill. My clothes had not been stolen, burned in a fire or anything like that, but instead had gone to someone else who was able to get some clothes because of my unfortunate circumstance and would, in turn, be able to create their own memories with the things I had attached such nostalgia to.
So I am grateful for Goodwill. I am grateful that there was a silver lining to my negative experience and that Goodwill made that possible. I am grateful for the people who run Goodwill and the opportunity for people to give their clothes away rather than let them hang in their closets unused. And I am grateful that my memories will not be lost with my clothes, but will instead multiply with the people who now own them.
Last night was my first night at a new job. Or was today technically my first day? I don't know because my brain is all jumbled up, and that's what working the night shift will do to you.
This morning, I am especially loopy because I lost some blood during my shift. I guess I'm exaggerating a little, but I did get a little cut, but it wouldn't stop bleeding. That's where the Band Aid comes in.
I patched myself up and I continued working. The Band Aid didn't just stop me from bleeding, but it also kept the dust and dirt and grime away from my cut until it was time to clock out. It's really quite amazing how useful and good for your body a tiny piece of gauze and plastic can be.
And you know when you were little and you fell and skinned your knee, but it didn't really hurt until you saw the blood? And then after you howled and cried and sobbed? Well putting on a Band Aid back then was like watching the whole situation in reverse, because the Band Aid was like some magical healing patch, even though all it did was stop the bleeding.
So I am grateful for Band Aids. I am grateful that something so simple, so small, can have such an impact. I am grateful that Band Aids help heal you, let you get on with your day and comfort you when you're down. I am grateful for the people who make Band Aids and the people who buy them and are smart enough to have them near by.
Let's get something straight right away; I do not like lemon meringue pie at all. The meringue part is pretty good and of course the pie part is great, but the lemon section is what turns me off of the whole thing. Despite this distaste for the pie, I'm still very thankful there is such a thing.
This week, I went to Ottawa to visit my girlfriend Kelsey for her birthday and we made a big dinner for the occasion. The one thing Kelsey really wanted for her birthday dinner was lemon meringue pie and so we scooped up the last one at the store.
After taking the first bite of the pie, Kelsey smiled and I could tell this simple joy of lemon meringue pie had made a great moment and I was happy, although it may not have looked like it as the sourness of the pie puckered my lips.
So I am grateful for lemon meringue pie. I am grateful that it could bring joy and sweetness and a happy ending to a day to someone, even if it wasn't me. I am grateful that people have different tastes all around the world because that's what makes life interesting. And I am grateful that making someone smile can be as easy as pie.
Dealing with me, and all the bad jokes, stubborn arguments and bad folding skills that come with it, can't be easy and therefore I applaud my friends, family and girl friend for sticking with me for this long. But the real champion has to be my mom, who had to deal with me nine months longer than anyone else on the face of this earth, and that is what, yesterday, Mother's Day, is for.
I know the saying "mothers have the toughest job in the world" is a little over used, but it's true. They have to work with the most finicky machinery in the world; people. Mothers are constantly working to make their children better, making sure they get the best out of life and turn into good people along the way which is no easy task, as people don't come with instruction manuals.
And my mother is no different. She has been with me all my life, supporting me in all that I do. And even though we have our arguments, I know she'd be there in a second if I ever called her from jail at in the morning, asking her for bail money, although I would get more than an earful later.
So I am grateful for mothers. I am grateful for the tireless job they do in raising kids and being role models at work, at home and in every other aspect of their lives. I am grateful that mothers don't retire from this job, nor do they want to. And I am grateful that there is a day on which we can honour the great things that mothers do, all over the world.
One of the oldest and dearest things I own is my stuffed penguin. And I am not afraid to say that it resides in my bed every night.
I have had my stuffed animal, Pingu, since I was five years old and although the white of its belly may be a little less bright, and the baby penguin that was in its pouch has broken free of its string, it still feels more familiar and comforting than almost anything I have ever known.
I use Pingu, named after the popular TV personality and inspiration clay figure, as a head rest, a pillow extension, an arm warmer in the winter and most importantly a reminder of my childhood. Pingu has been with me through thick and thin, from the house I grew up in to the house I learned to love in Toronto. Pingu has been with me all the way to Ottawa. Pengu reminds me of growing up, of the first tooth I lost and the first time I rode a bike. The touch or the smell or the sight of a stuffed animal brings you whizzing back to those moments when an economic downturn meant no one would trade their Pokemon cards with you or your biggest responsibility was making sure your fort had enough snow balls to fend off the kids across the street.
I have been many places since then, and loved all the experiences I've managed to have. But sometimes, and not often, but sometimes I get homesick, or feel overwhelmed and unprepared for the road ahead, but if I'm near my bed at those moments (where Pingu takes up residence at most times of the day) I just squeeze him tight for a few seconds (after making sure no one is looking) and remember that I've climbed steeper hills on windier days and then get to work.
So I am grateful for stuffed animals. I am grateful that they stay by your side as you grow and go through life. I am grateful that they remind you that you don't have to outgrow your child-like wonder and awe like your old, three speed bike. And I am grateful for the people who make stuffed animals. Stuffed animals are like time machines that transport you back to one of the greatest times of your life, so I am grateful for my time machine that I call Pingu.
Malls have been important places for me throughout my life.
When I was a kid, my family and I would meet up with my cousins, aunts, uncles and grandparents every Friday at SherwayGardens. We would take over an entire portion of the food court and sit and eat and talk for hours until my brothers and I got bored and ran into the movie store to watch the film that was always playing in there.
When I got a bit older and wanted to go out with my friends on Friday nights we would sometimes go to the mall. Where else can you go when you have no money, but you want to hang out somewhere away from your parents? Answer: the mall. And so this is where we would hang out sometimes.
And now as I sit here unemployed and out of school for the summer, the mall has become a prime place for job hunting. Each store is like a fresh opportunity for me, a new hope that the person behind the cash will say they are hiring. The mall gives me a chance to show my potential employees a little bit of who I am, that personal touch that doesn't come with an online application, but is so important to any job.
So I am grateful for malls. I am grateful for all the times I have spent there with friends and family, for having so many different stores and cuisines from around the world under one roof and for having a string of stores that turn into strings of hope when I am looking for a job.
Today I voted in the federal elections for the second time in my life and as I slipped the piece of paper into the ballot box I felt proud and thankful to be Canadian.
In this election, as in every election I have experienced, there was a lot of mud slinging from each side, every leader trying to convince the public that the other guy or girl was dirtier than them. Those tricks get me quite mad, but none of it mattered at all today as I walked away from the polling station, because, despite the name calling and put downs and conflicting promises, in the end I was able to exercise my right to vote freely.
As I walked down the street to the school near by to cast my vote, I wasn't afraid of being shot at or beat up. As I walked through the doors to the gym to the make shift voting area, I wasn't worried about being threatened or intimidated into voting a certain way. And as I left after choosing a candidate, there was no doubt in my mind that my vote would be counted and my voice would be heard.
The same can't be said in countries around the world. We can see in the media the great thirst people have to participate in politics, to have the democratic opportunity to mark a name on a piece of paper and who are willing to fight for this chance to speak out. We can see this hunger for democracy in our past, when the disenfranchised stood together and made it impossible for those in power to ignore them. We can see this same yearning in the history-making movement in the Middle East in recent months, in the vote mobs across campuses in Canada, in the eyes of senior citizen that stood in front of at the polls.
And all this, having the freedom when others don't, remembering how I got this freedom and using this freedom, make me proud and make me understand that those that fight for this right to vote in free elections are fighting a battle we can all understand on some level.
So I am grateful for free elections. I am grateful I have the opportunity to vote without fear of negative consequences. I am grateful that the outcome will be fair, even if I don't like who may be the next Prime Minister. I am grateful for the people who have given their time to make this election possible, mostly the volunteers, and the people who don't get any recognition or glory at the end, but serve the public nonetheless. And I am grateful for the people who will vote today. So go out and vote, because a vote in the election is a vote for your voice.
