To whom do I owe this compliment,
this bouquet of flowers so rare,
to whom do I pay a tribute
and with whom can I share.
Who gave the grass beneath my feet,
from where does the sun brightly shine,
this body, these thoughts, this heart within
who or what made it all mine.
I thank you, I thank you,
whatever your name may be,
for the sun, the grass and the flowers,
I thank you for making me.
©1968 Sharron R. McMillan
hernibs 
Well said. Thank you, Heather.
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Yes, thank you so much, for everything. Every sweet gift, every challenging lesson, every bit of growth and joy and every bit of sorrow – that opens my heart to compassion. Oh Great Mystery, you are so Beloved to my soul and to my small earthly self. Thank you. Not just on Thanksgiving, but on every moment I am living.
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Amen 💕
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