grandmother

As Thanksgiving arrives this year our gratitude for what we have seems to run deeper than ever before, doesn’t it? As we look at all the blessings God has placed in our hands, we come to the realization that thanks giving may not be enough. It is rather “thankful giving” that best expresses our gratitude.

I hope to carry this attitude of thankful giving beyond Thanksgiving all the way through the Christmas season this year. While our shopping and wrapping may be scaled down as we focus even more on what matters most, I’m still extremely grateful to have the means to give something to others—and to have others to receive what I give.

Billy Graham said, “God has given us two hands—one to receive with and the other to give with. We are not cisterns made for hoarding; we are channels made for sharing.”

The realization that He has chosen us to be such channels of giving is sometimes humbling and heartrending. One Christmas season my two oldest granddaughters saw princess outfits they loved at a store at the mall. The frilly dresses were ridiculously overpriced, but being the indulgent grandmother I can sometimes be, I went back a few days later and purchased both.

As I was writing out my check the tears started to well up in my eyes. By the time I grabbed my bulky package and left the store they were freely flowing. I felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude that I was able to buy gifts for my granddaughters when I knew there were many grandmothers who weren’t able to do the same.

A friend of mine is haunted by a news report she saw. A grandmother in Afghanistan was lying on a dirt floor, too weak to get up and tend to her six grandchildren who sat on the floor around her—their parents unaccounted for. Only God can reconcile the disparity between that woman and those of us who will be able to purchase and wrap gifts for our children and grandchildren for Christmas this year. Certainly the love in her heart is no weaker than that in ours.

“Freely you have received; freely give,” Jesus said (Matthew 10:8 NIV). It truly is more blessed to give than to receive, and sharing what we have received with those we love may be the greatest form of gratitude. This year let’s make an attitude of thankful giving the invisible “add-on” to every package we wrap.

Mid-summer brings farmers’ markets, and I can’t visit one without looking for the freshest green beans I can find. Not just because I love fresh green beans, but because of the memory of close family ties they always invoke.

A memory I have of my grandmother feels as if it happened only yesterday. She is sitting on our screened-in back porch with a big silver bowl in her lap and a big brown bag of what we call “string beans” in Tennessee on the table beside her. I am 12, and as I watch her snap, snap, snap I’m lulled by the rhythm of her pace and mesmerized by the sight of her gnarled 90-year-old fingers as she works. The method she used until it was second nature, and which is now second nature to me, involves snapping off each end, peeling down the string, flipping the bean around and giving two quick snaps between your thumb and forefinger. Snap…snap…zip, snap, snap. That’s the string bean symphony.

I remember wondering if the bowl fit perfectly in her lap because it was made to do so, or if her lap had just molded to the shape of the bowl over the years.

On those hot summer afternoons I had my best talks with Granny as I watched her snap. I would occasionally ask a question, knowing it could be quite a few more snaps before I got an answer. My questions were both trivial and monumental, but her answers always seemed profound and comforting.

My grandmother died two days after suffering a stroke on her 90th birthday. Through the years, each time I sit down with a bag of beans to snap I feel tremendously comforted and reassured that everything will be okay. It gives me a feeling of connection that transcends time and location. When my first granddaughter was two and visiting with us, I encouraged her to snap string beans with me. After snapping off each end, I handed the bean to her and told her to break it into little pieces, never dreaming she’d be able to do so without help. Her chubby little hands tightened down on the bean and she twisted it until it snapped. “Ouch!” she said, as if the snapping noise indicated the bean had been hurt. I handed her another bean. “Ouch…ouch,” she exclaimed as she gave it two perfect snaps.

The tears in my eyes as I watched her caught me by surprise. Now a new generation was snapping beans. Ninety-year-old, gnarled fingers…two-year-old, pink, chubby ones…we were all connected. The strings that hold us together can be as simple, and strong, and purposeful as those on the beans. With a lot of “ouch” when they break.

In his book Growing Wise in Family Life, Chuck Swindoll writes, “I know of no realm of life that can provide more companionship in a lonely world or greater feelings of security and purpose in chaotic times than the close ties of a family.” In Psalm 68:6 (NIV) we read, “God sets the lonely in families.” In the day in which we live families are greater gifts than ever. Encourage those you love to remember their family ties and draw strength from them.

If this sounds familiar that’s because it is excerpted in part from my first Back Porch Break newspaper column in 1995! Hope it still brings a smile or a tear–the good kind!

The Art of Thankful Giving

Family Ties