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At Christmas, Being Thankful for Those Never-Ending Chores

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Seeing My Blessings Through Another’s Eyes

Being the mother of a large family and the wife of someone who’s usually out of town, I frequently feel overwhelmed with work.  There are so many things to do, so many anxieties and concerns.  We are in a real financial hole, so there is that ever-present worry, with no money coming in and so many expenses just now.

The Christmas season is approaching, which seems to multiply the chores.  There are cards to somehow find time to write.  There’s the baking to do, for friends and neighbors.  The children’s concerts, my own local symphony concert and the many musical performances and rehearsals.  The house to clean and the cooking to do for visiting relatives, mine and my husband’s.  The gifts to purchase and wrap and send.  The parties to attend.  The family traditions to keep up.  Plus, the baby is ill; I’m trying to lose weight; and it’s hard to keep track of the children as they run around, hyperactive and silly in their excitement.  My son’s pet iguana is sick.  The pine trees in front of the house are dying.  The weeds in back are taking over.  The basement is hopeless.  So many problems are running through my mind constantly that I feel anxious and worried all the time.

After being on my feet all day and up twice during the night with the cross little baby, I was tired and stressed.  I was standing in the kitchen, wiping down the counter,  and suddenly I felt overwhelmed with it all.  “I’ve reached my limit,” I thought.  “Nothing I do is enough, or good enough.  I can’t keep my house clean or the laundry done.  I can’t keep the yard up.  I can’t keep my children clean, fed and happy.”  Almost in tears with fatigue and worry, I grabbed my purse and headed off to the drugstore to get medicine for the baby before I had to taxi the older kids to soccer practice.

At the store, cough medicine in hand, I stood impatiently waiting in line at the cash register.  An old woman was ahead of me.  The cashier said to her, perfunctorily, “Have a nice day.”  The old lady snapped her purse shut and paused.  Then she suddenly blurted out, “If I could hold a job, every day would be a nice day.  But those days are over for me.”  Then she shuffled out.  The cashier and I looked at each other wordlessly.  It was something for us both to think about.  Work, I was reminded, is a blessing.

On the way home, I thought about my chores.  All those tasks reflect the fact that I have a large house and yard, and am surrounded by family, friends, and neighbors.  Someday these might well be gone, along with my ability to care for them.  I decided to spend the Christmas holidays in gratitude for what and who have been given to me, rather than worrying that I can’t keep up.


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