By Kellie-Ann Morris
I forget to count my blessings,
pay more attention to what’s not there,
see the glass as half empty,
complain that it’s not fair.
I have a bad habit of underestimating
the value of fortunes in front of me,
paying no attention to their shine.
Privileges lose their glamour
because they seem immortal;
Thanksgiving reminds me that everything can rust.
It is an excuse to
consume copious amounts of food
and to put a spotlight on being grateful.
Before the holiday
I’d use my fingers to count off everything
I felt was missing,
forgetting I have
a shelter to protect me from howling winds,
shelves stocked with a variety of food,
friends who are willing
to hold my hand when it gets dark,
a mom who believes love
is worth the sacrifice, and
a sister who will always be my company.
Thanksgiving reminds me
to praise my forgotten riches.
Kellie-Ann Morris is a Freshman at Barbara Ingram