You know how if you can’t sleep, even a niggling concern can morph into a big worry? That’s what happened to me the other night. I tossed and turned. Finally, not wanting to wake my husband, I got out of bed. I settled onto the living-room sofa with my laptop and a cup of chamomile tea.
Bo, our dog, snoozed in the chair next to me, his white fur rising and falling in a peaceful rhythm. If only I could sleep like that!
I put the cup on the coffee table. Lamplight glinted off its golden rim. That’s from our wedding set, I recalled. Almost 17 years later, my husband and I still cherished our wedding china—and each other. A warm feeling came over me.
I glanced around the room. There was the beautiful little marble box from my sister Lauryn. The framed photograph my sister Erin gave me for my fiftieth. A collection of porcelain teacups and saucers, gifts from my mom and my bestie, Marisa.
Everywhere I looked, I saw something else to be thankful for. And more important, someone. A little vase from Becky. Books from Rosemary. Rocks Mara gave me when we visited her in Brazil last summer.
Votive holders from Linda, a hand-painted plate from Karen, a music box from Aunt Marietta—I’d admired it at her house one day, and she took it from her shelf and gave it to me. Even the chamomile tea I was drinking—it came from my neighbor and pal Melissa.
Then there was Bo, my loyal companion, by my side.
What’s one sleepless night compared to a lifetime of blessings? I opened my laptop, logged on to Facebook and listed all the people I was grateful to. It was a long post. By the time I finished, my worry had receded. In such good company, it turned out to be no biggie.
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