Orson Scott Card: There's no expiration date on gratitude

I had my column for this week already written. It wasn't about Thanksgiving. I wanted to be the writer who gave you something else to think about.

Then I went to sacrament meeting the Sunday before Thanksgiving, and I changed my mind.

One of the young men in our ward, Nathaniel Lundrigan, gave a youth talk that would have been extraordinary even if it had been given by an adult. It was intelligent, well thought out, heartfelt and moving as he spoke about gratitude.

Then my daughter's Sunday School teacher, Jill Smith, spoke, recounting how some of the trials in her life had turned into blessings. For instance, when she and her husband were moving to London, she was taking care of a 2-year-old and well into her pregnancy with child number two. So she allowed her husband to go ahead of her to rent their flat in downtown London.

It was going to be wonderful -- walking distance from his work, from everything. They weren't going to have to drive.

The trouble started when she got to the flat for the first time, while her husband was at work.

Eleven steps up to the front door of the building. Then five switchback flights of stairs to their flat.

She sat on the stairs and cried. She was so tired -- it felt like a 60-hour flight, since she did it taking care of a 2-year-old. She had had no sleep. She was angry at her husband's thoughtlessness in thinking that such a place was even possible for her.

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