Good morning, Digital Neighbors! Blessed Sunday and the Lord’s Day to all you fellow disciples of the Risen One across the internet. May this day of worship be one of abundant gratitude and praise! Every day is an opportunity for gratitude, but Sunday is the day of gratitude in my life.

I had a wonderful day yesterday visiting friends halfway across the state in their beautiful historical home. It was a great day and a wonderful visit. My life is blessed with so many good people and a few close friends who have walked with me on this pilgrimage of life. I am also thankful for the new ones I meet along the way. You never know when God or good fortune may introduce you to someone who enriches your life.

I shared this morning’s reflection years ago in the days of Facebook (which I no longer visit since the great emotional fracturing of 2016 and the commonsense implosion of 2020). Luckily, I shared it in the early days when I was active on the Rubin Report, and I’m happy to share it again here. Much of gratitude is about awareness and perspective. If you have both, you may reap the fruits of a life of gratitude. If you have neither, you live a spiritually impoverished life. Have a nice day my friends!

HAVE A NICE DAY

I never knew his name. In my mind he was simply the “Parking Lot Man.” Each day I drove to school and saw the older man in his early fifties who sat in the booth in the pay lot where I parked. He worked there eight hours a day, doing what seemed to me like a boring job—collecting money and raising and lowering the exit bar. Yet he appeared to enjoy his work. He always gave me a big smile when I drove up to pay my fee and sent me off with a cheerful, “Have a nice day.” What he didn’t know was that at that particular time in my life, I needed someone to remind me to have a nice day.

I was taking dance classes that year, hoping to improve my technique. As a woman coming to dance later in life, I found the classes much harder than I realized. Most of my classmates were at least ten years younger, and some had been training since they were three years old. I struggled with health and emotional issues, as well as ongoing back problems. Every day I’d leave the studio feeling exhausted, discouraged, and mediocre. Why did I keep taking classes?

My spirits were always lifted by the Parking Lot Man. Sometimes when there were open spaces on the street, I’d park in his lot anyway because I looked forward to his smile and greeting.

One morning I came to school early and saw the Parking Lot Man pushing himself around the lot in a wheelchair. I had noticed the chair before, but because he sat in the booth, I had never seen him below the waist. I drove by and he waved, smiling, then went back to cheerfully picking up bits of trash. He moved swiftly around the edges of the lot, turning his chair expertly across the lined asphalt. I marveled at the pride he took in his work, even down to the smallest details.

When I got out of my car, what I saw almost made me drop my dance shoes. He had no legs! That day I went to class on my own two legs—with my bundle of limitations—and enjoyed what I knew I was supposed to do. — Carol Oyanagi