More From My Attic

A Litany of Thanksgiving

When counting my blessings, I'm told, Be sure
To thank God for things that didn't occur.
So...

For all the broken bones I never had in a sling,
For all the bees that didn't sting,
For a few sour notes I didn't sing,
Thank You, Lord.

For not shattering my windows with sonic booms,
Or letting my guests look in the back bedrooms,
For nightmares I didn't have, so they weren't scary,
For all the bums I didn't marry,
For crimes at which I wasn't caught,
'Cause I didn't do them - thanks a lot.

For all the Judases who never betrayed me,
For a thousand skunks that never sprayed me,
For all the skunks I never even met; this may sound silly,
But I'm glad I didn't mistake one for my pet skunk, Lily.
That is, if I had one, which isn't the case,
Thanks to Your ineffable Grace.

For nosebleeds that aren't now bleeding,
For elephants not stampeding,
Or in my garden feeding,
Thank You, Lord.

For subways I never got stuck under
For deaths I didn't die by lightning and thunder,
For Vikings who aren't here to pillage and plunder,
Even for an avoided blooper or blunder,
Thank You, Lord.

That I'm not a circus star falling off my trapeze
    without benefit of rayon nets,
Or an enemy pilot bailing out over a parade
    of troops shouldering bayonets,
    or landing on a church spire,
    and the church below it is on fire,
Thank You, Lord.

That I haven't divorced and remarried, only to discover
    my divorce was no good and I'm into bigamy;
For all those times I didn't safari into Africa
    and get cooked by some pygamy,
For every catastrophe, every disaster
That didn't happen, thank You, Master.
From tomato blight to mange to gout,
For every plight we've done without,
For these and the rest of an infinite list
Of countless things that don't exist,
May Your Name be praised.

But Lord, I confess, I prefer by far
To thank You for things that really are
Than to sit around and go half mad
Inventing things incredibly bad,
For which, since they aren't,
I'm supposed to be glad!