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A Thanksgiving Prayer

Aunt Nancy and Uncle Pete were not related to me by blood, but they became family through their care and affection for mine.

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Aunt Nancy understood the power of prayer. It was a regular spiritual practice for her. I think she must have logged countless hours of prayer requests for others, not to mention her own needs for healing prayer.

She and her husband, Uncle Pete, were some of my parents’ oldest friends. Not an aunt by blood, she was a relative through her care and affection for my family. The last time I saw her she was in a wheelchair but her hope for some medical miracle was always present.

Maybe there were other miracles in her life. Back in the summer when we were putting the November issue of Guideposts together, thinking about thankfulness and Thanksgiving a good four months before it appears on the calendar, I remembered the gift Aunt Nancy and Uncle Pete gave my family years ago: a subscription to Guideposts.

I wrote a little article about it for the magazine and was pleased to have it published because Aunt Nancy and Uncle Pete’s gift explains why I am where I am and why I have the job I do. I loved reading that little magazine that appeared at our house month after month, and remembered it well when I applied for my job. I could even retell stories that I’d read as a child. Still can.      

I put it all down in a long-overdue thanks. Some say it’s never too late to say thanks, but this one was a long time coming. Even before the November issue was printed I sent a copy of the article to Mom to give to Aunt Nancy and Uncle Pete. “Tell them thanks.”

Then last Wednesday Mom called to tell me that Aunt Nancy died. She’d suffered for such a long time I’m sure I shouldn’t have been surprised. But as a friend of mine reminds me, even when a death is expected, even when it might seem a release, it still takes you back. “Poor Uncle Pete,” I said to Mom.

“He’s been a saint,” she said. They’re both saints. I’m glad I had the chance to tell them thanks. 

Happy Thanksgiving.

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