The Blogosphere has been awash with expressions of gratitude during the past week. To have one day in the year when families, communities, indeed a whole nation, unite in appreciation of the good things in life, is truly wonderful, and I hope that kind of special awareness does not evaporate as soon as the last farewells have been said and the dishes have been washed and put back into the kitchen cupboards. Genuinely giving thanks is not something we do often enough.
Saying 'Thank You' is as ubiquitous in the UK as saying 'Sorry'. German friends and family always remark on it. Both phrases are constantly used in the world I inhabit, and probably quite thoughtlessly at times. Still, they oil the grooves of social interaction and who am I to question their usefulness; in fact, I am as guilty of overusing them as the next person.
The sweetest and most gratifying 'thank you' I remember, came from two men on two separate occasions; a frail, elderly, man and a strong and healthy looking boy, probably no more than eighteen years old. I hadn't been in the UK long when I came across the first man. Waiting to cross a busy road, I noticed him hesitating at the kerb; several times he put a foot out to step into the road, only to pull it back again as cars sped by. I simply took his arm and said "Let me help you", no fuss, no introductions, no question. I was very young. He thanked me fulsomely, wheezing as he tried to catch his breath, his voice as frail as his body. I was about to leave him on the pavement opposite and continue on my way when he asked "where do you come from?" I told him "Germany", and "why?" "You're only young", he said, you won't know much about the war. A bomb did this to me, I got this weak chest from being buried. And now here you are, helping me, and you are German." I was at a loss what to say to him. "Sorry," was all I managed. "It's not your fault," he said, "it's a long time ago now and we must all try to forgive and not let it happen again." And "Thank you again for your kindness."
The young man was a beggar on London's Embankment, no doubt one of the thousands of homeless, parentless youngsters who had been 'released' from children's homes into 'Care in the Community' at eighteen. He had a pleasantly cheeky grin on his face, as he held out his hand, which made me dig in my pocket for a coin. As I dropped it into his hand, he looked at it closely, and the grin grew into the sunniest, brightest smile, transforming his whole face. "Thank you, lady," he beamed. I was a little surprised, it hadn't been that big a gift. I was with a friend, we moved on, making for a drink at the nearby pub; the place was crowded and while we were still queueing for service at the bar, the young man came rushing in, one hand in a fist held high above his head, shouting happily "I have enough money for a pint, I'll have a pint, please." I was as happy as he was to know that I had made such bliss possible and have rarely given a gift that has met with such instant reward.
There is one more story where kindness met with the opposite of gratitude. Again, a man and crossing a very busy road were involved. I was making my way to a staggered Pelican crossing, with railings and an island in the middle, outside a major London station, when a blind man waved his white stick at me. "Help me across, won't you," he demanded. "Of course," I said and took his arm. "The official crossing is no more than five yards this way, I'm just about to use it myself," I said, and "I'll take you there". "I know about the crossing", he said, " I don't want the crossing, I want to cross in this direction." "Are you sure," I said, "this is a dangerous road and I'd feel so much safer using the Pelican crossing." He pulled his arm out of mine. "Stupid woman," he said, "I'll go without you then." He almost, but not quite, stamped his foot, assuming I'd give in. I didn't. I turned my back and left him to it.
The young man was a beggar on London's Embankment, no doubt one of the thousands of homeless, parentless youngsters who had been 'released' from children's homes into 'Care in the Community' at eighteen. He had a pleasantly cheeky grin on his face, as he held out his hand, which made me dig in my pocket for a coin. As I dropped it into his hand, he looked at it closely, and the grin grew into the sunniest, brightest smile, transforming his whole face. "Thank you, lady," he beamed. I was a little surprised, it hadn't been that big a gift. I was with a friend, we moved on, making for a drink at the nearby pub; the place was crowded and while we were still queueing for service at the bar, the young man came rushing in, one hand in a fist held high above his head, shouting happily "I have enough money for a pint, I'll have a pint, please." I was as happy as he was to know that I had made such bliss possible and have rarely given a gift that has met with such instant reward.
There is one more story where kindness met with the opposite of gratitude. Again, a man and crossing a very busy road were involved. I was making my way to a staggered Pelican crossing, with railings and an island in the middle, outside a major London station, when a blind man waved his white stick at me. "Help me across, won't you," he demanded. "Of course," I said and took his arm. "The official crossing is no more than five yards this way, I'm just about to use it myself," I said, and "I'll take you there". "I know about the crossing", he said, " I don't want the crossing, I want to cross in this direction." "Are you sure," I said, "this is a dangerous road and I'd feel so much safer using the Pelican crossing." He pulled his arm out of mine. "Stupid woman," he said, "I'll go without you then." He almost, but not quite, stamped his foot, assuming I'd give in. I didn't. I turned my back and left him to it.
I am glad we have Thanksgiving in the States. It's such a warm, quiet holiday. As opposed to what's coming up.
ReplyDeleteLoved all three of your stories - particularly the first one, where the man realized that young German girls could be kind.
This is a very nice painting and a new painter to me. Stipan Tadic.
ReplyDeleteSometimes that's all we can do is walk on and let it go. It's funny how regardless of their circumstances some people still maintain a sense of gratitude and others only grow bitter. I plan to work on the gratitude myself. This hit home for me at just the right time. Thanks Friko.
Ahh, human nature! Thanks for you comment on my blog. I signed on to follow yours. Please sign on to mine too.
ReplyDeleteDear Friko,
ReplyDeleteThe instant feeling that spanned the space between the older man who was buried in the war and you is poignant to me. Time collapsed for a moment and the two of you met as friends. War is so strange. Thomas Hardy surely captured the inanity of it in his poem "The Man He Killed." Your story about both the young man and the older one gave me something else to be grateful for right now.
Peace.
...and you have done it again - written the twist that makes the post. The feel good, the feel better and then the twist - one as real as the others.
ReplyDeleteOf course the Thanksgiving celebrations of Thursday segued to the Black Friday about which we heard on the news last night. Theft, beatings, pepper-spraying all in the name of getting 'stuff'.
I had to pull my self away from staring at the painting... The facial expressions on the men had my mind wondering. It amazed me how that man had the nerve to call you a "stupid woman." Wow!
ReplyDeleteI love Thanksgiving! It's my favourite holiday. Quiet, unassuming, all about gathering tgether and recognising how much more alike we are than different and focusing on the positive rather than the negative. With a little luck it renews our determination to count our blessings every day of the year....
ReplyDeleteThe truth, raw and tingling, is that
ReplyDeletewhen we give a gift, a service, food
stuff, or product, what we are actually
doing is feeding a need within ourselves.
When someone is grateful for what we
have given them, it is a moment of
inner implosion that is both addicting
and nurturing. I figured this out when
I switched my vocation from professional
actor to special Ed teacher. Working
with the blind for 33 years was the
gratification I craved as a human being,
and it finished my molding as an
entity in lesson. It just seems to set
up some kind of karmic reciprocity
that burns like an eternal flame.
hopefully the stubborn man made it and i am glad you did not give in...gratitude truly is an attitude we have to work at you know...
ReplyDeleteAn intersting read as always. Can I risk saying "Thank you"?
ReplyDeleteWhen my children were small, I taught them "please," "thank you," "you're welcome." No problem, an easy thing, almost everyone did it. However, I also address them with "Thank you, sir," or "yes ma'am, what do you want?" A few of my friends guffawed or smirked at me. However they grew up with manners and have passed those teachings down to my grandchildren, to my delight.
ReplyDeleteWe also took time as a family to talk about what in our lives gave us gratitude; but we carried it a step farther .... I made [wink] them describe why they were thankful for those things.
And when Thanksgiving comes around, I know that the thanks that are given are genuine and understood.
It seems we can be thankful for small and large things...but we do need to have an open mind and heart. I found this post made me think of times when I had similar experiences.
ReplyDeleteNice variant on Thanksgiving.
ReplyDeleteGreetings,
Filip
You hit on a good point(well, several, but one that resonates with me). At the food pantry so many people contribute for Thanksgiving, Christmas, & to a lesser extent Easter..the rest of the year only about 10-15% of those people contribute food. Who's feeding everyone in February or July? It is often the same with thankfulness.
ReplyDelete~Mary
This is a very moving post, Friko. I especially liked the story about the old man with World War II disabilities reflecting on the kindness of you as a young German girl.
ReplyDeleteYou have a decided knack for combining the sweet with the sour that makes for a very palatable post. Human nature - perfectly portrayed.
ReplyDeleteBonza stories i especially like the story of the beggar :-).
ReplyDeleteAs soon as I commented and clicked, I KNEW that you and I follow one another. Do you know of a town called Musbach, Germany?
ReplyDeletePondside has articulated perfectly my own thoughts upon reading this. What a gifted story teller you are.
ReplyDeleteThat was a lovely heartwarming post Friko, Thank you.
ReplyDeleteI don't know which story I like most - they're all so good. I'm glad you walked away from the old grouch. Blindness is no excuse for rudeness.
ReplyDeleteI like it when people say please and thank you! I wish I could hear it more. Hollow or not, it's better than not acknowledging an act. Unfortunately, here in Sydney, words of kindness, concern or politeness are becoming too rare.
Giving thanks - like mothers day, fathers day or valentines day shouldn't be confined to 1 day of the year, methinks.
I'm the other Molly from down the road :0) I loved this blog post Friko. Thank you such little words, but said with sincerity - make this world a better place to live in
ReplyDeleteThis is a wondeful post. I have made a commitment to myself. I complain if I don't think that the service or products are good enough, equally I thank people when they are. Recently we had cause to use the ambulance service. The care of my partner by the paramedics was wonderful, and the next day after his surgery one of them came to visit. So I sent a thank you letter. And was horrified to receive one in return that said 'mostly the work we do goes by unremarked. Thank you for your letter of appreciation'.
ReplyDeleteWhich re-inforced my commitment to appreciating and acknowledging the things I am grateful for.
All three instances are great examples of human nature; some people are gracious in both giving and receiving and others are not.
ReplyDeleteLove the young one being able to buy a pint!
friko - as a point of astonishment - insight into the rich welath of truth that some people carry as a matter of course, this writing dances into the space typically (in my own experience) occupied by the sacred with its gentle unpacking of the human condition and the openings that emerge from that. thankyou. (that'sa transplanted english boy living in canada thankyou) i hope that carries the weight of gratitude it's intended! steven
ReplyDeleteI like that painting but I'm not familiar with the artist. Although I don't know of many artists.
ReplyDelete3 good gratitude stories. The old man in the last story should have a lesson in gratitude.
excellent essay (as usual) !
ReplyDeleteAloha from Waikiki
Comfort Spiral
> < } } ( ° >
><}}(°>
< ° ) } } > <
Friko, I very much like what you've expressed with your three tales.
ReplyDeleteI might have to write you an email to say more about my other thoughts. Thank you for generating those thoughts.
xo
I loved the way you shared these memories with us. As I read, I was amazed at how well you could capture each memory and how you shared each tale in such a way as to make it memorable to us.
ReplyDeleteA well time trilogy - and a lesson from each one.
ReplyDeleteI must add my Thank You - for letting us share in your comings and goings and always thought provoking observations.
As a German living in the States I have come to love Thanksgiving - I prefer it much more than Christmas. Only a few weeks ago I've started a gratitude journal, which on some days can be a challenge, and then it comes down to the basics, the essentials I am grateful for - my family, food and shelter. Writing down what I'm thankful for every day is a wonderful therapy - and it's free.
ReplyDeletelike the pics Friko.
ReplyDeleteHi Friko - great stories .. thank you for reminding us of the different responses. That joy of a pint .. must have been amazing ...
ReplyDeleteI've come to appreciate Thankyous so much .. since my mother has been ill - as when she says it .. she means it - you can hear and feel it .. and the staff remark on it.
Gratitude - comes from the heart ... thanks Friko - cheers Hilary
Like American Thanksgiving which is uniquely based on the story of pilgrims and Indians, most countries have similar celebration, celebrations of all we have in our lives but often forget. I also hope that
ReplyDeleteawareness of gratitude won’t get lost in daily rush.
When “Thank You” or “Sorry” is said with sincerity, it is touching. Japanese “Sumimasen/Sorry” is the word of apology, but it is often used as “Arigato/Thank You” , which would be confusing to the non-native speakers. When people are given a present, or offered a seat in the train, for example, people say “Sumimasen/Sorry” instead of "Arigato/Thank you." Behind this “Sorry”, the feeling exists: I’m grateful to you, but right now I can’t return your kindness, I’m sorry.
Remarkable telling of two incidents. The old people who remember the war are dying in great numbers. My FIL wha was in the Pacific in 1944 and 1945, died last year. My son Richard took his grandfather's uniform back to California.
ReplyDelete"I wonder if a museum would like this," he said. The museums are overflowing with uniforms from WWII I told him. He decided to keep it for his son. I suspect it will hang forgotten in a closet.
Dianne
Common courtesy makes such an enormous difference and even small acts of generosity can make a day glow .
ReplyDeleteWe should all try a little harder , perhaps .
The story of the older man trying to cross the street, in particular, is a jewel. "Thank you" is used, over here, too, at the drop of a hat. Yet, as you demonstrate so vividly in these stories, the phrase can have real and heartfelt meaning. So here, I say, "thank you" for that.
ReplyDeleteWonderful stories, Friko. Well, the last wasn't actually wonderful -- what an old idiot!
ReplyDeleteYou tell all three stories so well, as ever.
ReplyDeleteHere in South Wales, we have the much-ridiculed and loathed term of gratification; "cheers but". It tends to be said to males only, but a man said it to me the other week when I held the lift for him. I couldn't stop sniggering in the lift, he must have found me most rude.
ReplyDeleteMany people say you shouldn't give money to homeless people on the street as they'll spend it on drugs etc and they won't be grateful, but that hasn't been my experience.
ReplyDeleteAt the latter end of my teens, 3 friends & I went to London for the day and at the end of the day we came across a couple of old homeless men. It was winter and freezing, so taking pity on them we dug into our pockets and gave them all the change we had between us. It came to £4 or £5 and the pair of them couldn't thank us enough, telling us they could now get something hot to eat for the evening. Even as we walked off back to our bus they still called out thanking us. I've never met anyone more grateful.
What beautiful stories of gratitude and appreciation. And - as for the last one - you have to wonder where his anger comes from..and know that it's not about you..but about he. Loved the first one of forgiveness - the German and the Englishman!
ReplyDeleteTEST
ReplyDeleteSorry Friko, I was having trouble posting.
ReplyDeleteI said the first story was the more powerful, healing and renewal.
We have our Tgiving in October, a little more civilized for harvest, etc. and some distance from the Big One.
XO
WWW
A very interesting painting that I haven't seen before, and quite a fitting one for your stories. I must admit that the one of you and the older gentleman pulled at my heartstrings. The passage of time does help in the healing and how thoughtful you were to help him across the street.
ReplyDeleteI love Thanksgiving, the simplest of our holidays, though now I am as tired as tired can be. Loved your post.
You always weave good yarns. I agree about gratitudes ... funny people are, are they not. I liked the "pint" story best.
ReplyDeleteWell told, as usual. I can see them all. It always makes me sad to read the statistics about kids in care, how badly they do. I wonder if that is changing.
ReplyDeleteLike most Brits i am somewhat bemused by Thanksgiving - I suppose we are an unappreciative lot over here, taking so much for granted.
ReplyDeleteI loved your last story - I was with a friend recently, I went to cross the road, she pulled me back and pointed to the crossing just a few yards away. She laughed and said "good job we're not in Germany!"