THANKSGIVING
We walk on starry fields of white and do not see the daisies; For blessings common in our sight we rarely offer praises. Our cares are bold and push their way upon our thought and feeling.They hand about us all the day, our time from pleasure stealing. So unobtrusive many a joy we pass by and forget it, But worry strives to own our lives, and conquers if we let it. Full many a blessing wears the guise of worry or of trouble; Far-seeing is the soul, and wise, who knows the mask is double.
We ought to make the moments notes of happy, glad Thanksgiving. The hours and days a silent phrase of music we are living. And so the theme should swell and grow as weeks and months pass o’er us, And rise sublime at this good time, a grand Thanksgiving chorus. -Ella Wheeler Wilcox