Another Thanksgiving has come and soon will be gone, so it is that I should like to take the waning minutes of the holiday to share my gratitude by creating a top 10 list of things for which I am grateful:
10. MODERN CONVENIENCE--I am grateful for all things modern. I love having a house in which to live, a warm bed in which to sleep, a hot shower, hot food, easy transportation, easy communications, movies, music, and the likes. The list could go on and on, but to live in the age in which we live--what a blessing! There is so much to be grateful for which those who have come before us could not even have imagined that we would be enjoying. To think that I can type these words on a computer and publish them for anyone in the world to read--it is truly unbelievable and wonderful!
9. TRAVELING--I love the opportunity to travel both local and around the world. There is so much to see and do in the world and we have been blessed to live in a time when traveling is so convenient. I have had opportunity to travel throughout California, the state of my birth, throughout the United States, and throughout parts of Europe and Canada. I am constantly amazed by the various cultures that are unique to specific regions, the art work, architecture, history, culture, and of course the natural beauty that exists in each type of climate and location.
8. NATURE--I love the beauties of the earth. There is truly a rejuvenating quality within nature that seems to enlighten the mind and cleanse the soul. I love getting out into fresh air, getting a little exercise, clearing my mind, placing all worries aside, and enjoying the sights, sounds, and smells of nature. I love art, and to me nature is the art of God, and he has created several masterpieces for us to enjoy!
7. EDUCATION--I have not always valued education, but with each passing year, the more I discover that I love to learn things and that I truly appreciate the opportunity to have my mind expanded. Education has helped me to develop culturally, to appreciate and understand life a little better, and has provided the means for me to gain meaningful employment wherein I may earn an honest living, providing for my needs and wants, while making a positive difference in the world around me.
6. MY ANCESTORS--I am thankful for ancestors passing back through the generations who have made countless sacrifices so that their children could have a better life. As each generation has sacrificed a little more, my life in the present has been made that much sweeter. I recall many stories of the many ways that my ancestors have lived and sacrificed in order to present better opportunities for the following generation. I hope that I may one day in turn make sacrifices for my own posterity which will benefit them and be worthy of the legacy that my ancestors have created and placed in my own hands.
5. FREEDOM--I am truly blessed to have been born and to have lived my life in the United States of America. It is an awesome blessing to have the freedoms that this country has afforded me. One need but look around the world at the varying conditions of society with poverty, disease, war, famine, restriction, and degradation. I am so thankful for our founding fathers who were inspired enough to recognize that differing opinion is alright and that the voice of the people should determine the laws and leadership of our government, not the elite. I am grateful for countless men and women who have sacrificed their time, energy, money, and lives in order to obtain and maintain the freedoms that we enjoy--the freedoms that I enjoy! God Bless America and Democracy throughout the world, and may we as a people honor it and honor the God who has inspired men to create such governments where life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness may be enjoyed.
4. FRIENDS AND ACQUAINTANCES--Throughout my life I have come across hundreds of people who have influenced my life for the good. People who have been good examples for me, people who I have played with, people who have made me laugh, people who have challenged me physically, mentally, spiritually, and emotionally. My friends are few, but they are faithful and good people, and I am ever grateful for them. Life simply would not be enjoyable without them.
3. MY FAMILY--I shall ever be indebted to my family, both immediate and extended. My parents have taught me well and have prepared me for the challenges of life. I have been offered love and support all throughout my life from my parents, siblings, and extended family. I have received great council from family members and have been blessed by the examples of family members that has helped to shape my life and to be happy.
2. THE RESTORED GOSPEL OF JESUS CHRIST--I am extremely grateful for the restored gospel of Jesus Christ. To know that God has spoken to man in times past and that He speaks even today through living prophets is a great comfort to me. To have all of the scriptures that have been revealed to mankind to date, to have the Church of Jesus Christ established on the earth, and to have the priesthood authority governing the affairs of the church is truly a blessing. Through this, I know to what source I may look to in faith in order to have a hope of receiving proper instruction and guidance in my life, and to know what I must do in order to gain eternal life.
1. THE ATONEMENT OF JESUS CHRIST--I am most grateful for the atonement of Jesus Christ as it allows mercy to be extended in my behalf. I am far from perfect, but I know to what source I may turn in order to make positive changes in my life. The atonement does not extend mercy to us so that we may continue in our sins, but offers strength to overcome our sins and to be made clean. There is nothing sweeter that I have experienced in my life than the sweetness that comes from this gift. I can never offer enough thanks for the suffering in Gethsemane, the death upon the cross, and the glorious resurrection wherein the living Christ has taken upon Himself our sins and suffered for them that we may have this hope to one day be perfect, even as he is perfect, and return to live with our Heavenly Parents.
Showing posts with label Gratitude. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Gratitude. Show all posts
Thursday, November 27, 2008
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
Veterans' Day
So, while I was attempting to sleep my mind reverted back to the day and how it has been set aside to honor veterans of our great country. As I was thinking upon that purpose, I felt a need to express my great appreciation for all who have ever served our country, both living and dead. Needless to say, a few years ago I watched a program on the World War II American cemeteries in Europe and was inspired to write the following poem. May God bless all who have served, those who now serve, and those who will serve in the Armed Forces of the United States of America! And may we as American citizens ever be grateful for their service.
MEMORIAL
by Brett Hall
April 20, 2003
The day was bright, with a light breeze,
The waves beneath the cliff did break,
And people sauntered with such ease,
Though hallowed, lest the dead they waked.
The grounds, so careful and so clean,
Were so well kept by the new guard,
Who made the grounds on such days glean--
These very grounds that once were scarred.
A visitor upon the site
Had come to view this world of men
Who once had faced an awful plight
So that a greater cause might win.
And so she passed behind a cross
An alabaster monument
Erected for a man whose loss
Would prove the world's own betterment.
And as she walked amid these stones,
In pensive and in grateful mood,
She saw a man of wretched bones
Who on his knees appeared subdued.
He wept, his hand upon a cross,
The other wiped the tears away.
O how he wept for his own loss,
She thought as she beheld him pray.
Her heart grew heavy at the sight
And tears upon her cheek did swell
As a deep sadness reached its height
Within a man who seemed so frail.
She stood and watched as time did pass,
Reflecting on an anguished soul
Who bitterly wept upon the grass,
The tears the dead softly extolled.
Perhaps a fellow man in arms--
Perhaps a father, brother dead--
Perhaps a fellow whose alarms
Prevented yet another dead.
Perhaps a friend from long ago
With whom in school he once did play
Or in the fields on farms did go,
And worked together bucking hay.
Perhaps, perhaps, her mind ran wild
With all the possibility
As she watched an ancient child
Weeping with the weeping sea.
The waves, they rumbled with a sigh,
Remembering the bloody gait
With which so many men did die
As on her shores they met with fate.
His body heaved, the waves washed back,
Launching ever to and fro,
A harmony they did not lack,
A synchronizing ebb and flow.
She stood, the minutes racing by,
And waited for this lovely scene
To pass beneath the blazing sky
And enter in her heart serene.
The man upon his feet did rise
And slowly walked toward her place
And staring deep into her eyes
He reached out with a warm embrace.
She held the stranger fervently
Within her arms and then inquired
In a tone so reverently
About the dead that he admired.
"I know him not," was the reply.
"He's not a relative of mine,
Nor was a friend, this man who died,
Nor anyone with whom I've dined.
I do not know a single soul
Who lies beneath these hallowed stones,
And yet I feel my heart so full
For these whose final breath bemoaned
The pain and anguish suffered here,
So far away on distant sand,
That liberty may yet appear
For one as I in my homeland.
I weep for freedoms that I love
Whose price, in part, cost these men's blood.
I weep for peace, that graceful dove,
Which flies now where once warriors stood.
I weep for liberty divine,
For joy and lasting happiness,
These blessings which I claim as mine
Preserved by those who did enlist.
And here these lie within the earth
While all the world is passing on--
These men in death preserve the birth
Of freedoms which their blood has won."
And so the old man walked away--
Alone the woman in awe stood
Without a word which she could say
She hearkened to her pensive mood.
And kneeling down at a near cross
She also wept with grateful tears
For all the young lives that were lost
To preserve freedom through the years.
MEMORIAL
by Brett Hall
April 20, 2003
The day was bright, with a light breeze,
The waves beneath the cliff did break,
And people sauntered with such ease,
Though hallowed, lest the dead they waked.
The grounds, so careful and so clean,
Were so well kept by the new guard,
Who made the grounds on such days glean--
These very grounds that once were scarred.
A visitor upon the site
Had come to view this world of men
Who once had faced an awful plight
So that a greater cause might win.
And so she passed behind a cross
An alabaster monument
Erected for a man whose loss
Would prove the world's own betterment.
And as she walked amid these stones,
In pensive and in grateful mood,
She saw a man of wretched bones
Who on his knees appeared subdued.
He wept, his hand upon a cross,
The other wiped the tears away.
O how he wept for his own loss,
She thought as she beheld him pray.
Her heart grew heavy at the sight
And tears upon her cheek did swell
As a deep sadness reached its height
Within a man who seemed so frail.
She stood and watched as time did pass,
Reflecting on an anguished soul
Who bitterly wept upon the grass,
The tears the dead softly extolled.
Perhaps a fellow man in arms--
Perhaps a father, brother dead--
Perhaps a fellow whose alarms
Prevented yet another dead.
Perhaps a friend from long ago
With whom in school he once did play
Or in the fields on farms did go,
And worked together bucking hay.
Perhaps, perhaps, her mind ran wild
With all the possibility
As she watched an ancient child
Weeping with the weeping sea.
The waves, they rumbled with a sigh,
Remembering the bloody gait
With which so many men did die
As on her shores they met with fate.
His body heaved, the waves washed back,
Launching ever to and fro,
A harmony they did not lack,
A synchronizing ebb and flow.
She stood, the minutes racing by,
And waited for this lovely scene
To pass beneath the blazing sky
And enter in her heart serene.
The man upon his feet did rise
And slowly walked toward her place
And staring deep into her eyes
He reached out with a warm embrace.
She held the stranger fervently
Within her arms and then inquired
In a tone so reverently
About the dead that he admired.
"I know him not," was the reply.
"He's not a relative of mine,
Nor was a friend, this man who died,
Nor anyone with whom I've dined.
I do not know a single soul
Who lies beneath these hallowed stones,
And yet I feel my heart so full
For these whose final breath bemoaned
The pain and anguish suffered here,
So far away on distant sand,
That liberty may yet appear
For one as I in my homeland.
I weep for freedoms that I love
Whose price, in part, cost these men's blood.
I weep for peace, that graceful dove,
Which flies now where once warriors stood.
I weep for liberty divine,
For joy and lasting happiness,
These blessings which I claim as mine
Preserved by those who did enlist.
And here these lie within the earth
While all the world is passing on--
These men in death preserve the birth
Of freedoms which their blood has won."
And so the old man walked away--
Alone the woman in awe stood
Without a word which she could say
She hearkened to her pensive mood.
And kneeling down at a near cross
She also wept with grateful tears
For all the young lives that were lost
To preserve freedom through the years.
It Is A Beauteous Evening
Of all the poets throughout all of the ages of time, none have a more dear place in my heart than William Wordsworth. His ability to capture the simple, the subtle, the moment and to make it all so profound is an amazing talent which allows my mind to feast and my heart to rejoice. I should like to share one of his sonnets: "It Is A Beauteous Evening." And seeing that it is Veterans' Day, I should like to thank all those who have served our great country and have sacrificed so that we as human beings could have such moments of serenity. Now, before the purists attack me for using an English poet from the 19th century to show gratitude for God, life, and the service of our soldiers both present and past, let me state that Wordsworth captures the human condition that extends beyond country and age. Just as Wordsworth states, "God being with [us] when we know it not," so is the peace and freedoms that we enjoy as Americans due to our service men. . . even when we do not recognize that it is their sacrifices that have made it possible for us to enjoy our freedoms, along with the hand of the Almighty looking over us. Let us ever be grateful to those willing to sacrifice their lives for their countrymen, to our God who gives us life and freedom to live as we choose, for nature to enjoy, and great poetry to remind us of the finer things of life.
It is a beauteous Evening, calm and free;
The holy time is quiet as a Nun
Breathless with adoration; the broad sun
Is sinking down it its tranquillity;
The gentleness of heaven is on the Sea:
Listen! the mighty being is awake
And doth with his eternal motion make
A sound like thunder--everlastingly.
Dear Child! dear Girl! that walkest with me here,
If thou appear untouched by solemn thought,
Thy nature is not therefore less divine:
Thou liest in Abraham's bosom all the year;
And worshipp'st at the Temple's inner shrine,
God being with thee when we know it not.
It is a beauteous Evening, calm and free;
The holy time is quiet as a Nun
Breathless with adoration; the broad sun
Is sinking down it its tranquillity;
The gentleness of heaven is on the Sea:
Listen! the mighty being is awake
And doth with his eternal motion make
A sound like thunder--everlastingly.
Dear Child! dear Girl! that walkest with me here,
If thou appear untouched by solemn thought,
Thy nature is not therefore less divine:
Thou liest in Abraham's bosom all the year;
And worshipp'st at the Temple's inner shrine,
God being with thee when we know it not.
Monday, May 26, 2008
Upon My Brother's Grave
Today being memorial day, I took the opportunity in the evening to drive out to San Dimas (or rather Covina Hills) to visit my younger brother's grave at the Forest Lawn cemetery/mortuary. I honestly do not remember my little brother at all--after all, I was only two years old when he was born and he died on the third day of his life. Nevertheless, according to my knowledge of the gospel of Jesus Christ, I know that one day I will have the opportunity to meet him. Anyhow, when I arrived at his grave I discovered fresh flowers in a vase upon his gravestone. My parents had already arrived earlier in the day. It is a tradition for my parents to cut flowers from their own garden in order to create a bouquet to place upon his grave.
It gave me opportunity to really evaluate my own life as I thought upon what my brother might be doing on the other side of mortality. I also had a profound sense of gratitude for the atonement of Jesus Christ which makes it possible for all of us to be resurrected--to live again with a perfect body in the life to come.
I should like to include a poem that I had written some time ago when visiting my brother's grave. It is titled "Upon My Brother's Grave" and is in honor of Marc Jeffery Hall (July 20, 1976-July 23, 1976):
There is a quiet hill where thousands sleep
Beneath the grassy waves tossed by the wind,
Where peaceful moments rest in hearts and minds,
Where people rest beneath the azure sky.
There have been days when distant thoughts have fled
And somber reminiscents take their place,
And I, within the valley, turn to look
Upon that green hill, not so far away.
I've glanced upon the beauty of the life
That springs in great abundance from its height
And thought upon my brother and his life
In realms where mortals only dream to dwell.
I've driven, on occasion, to this hill,
And stood, betimes, beside the road where lies
The headstone, and the body there beneath,
Of my dear brother Marc--an infant death.
At times, when young, my parents stood nearby,
And I would watch them with their loving hands,
Place the fresh flowers, from the garden plucked,
Upon the earth in loving memory.
I'd wandered on this hill once unannounced,
Long after all my youthful years were spent,
In search of that dear spot, for what it meant
To my own heart throughout the passing years.
I had not found the spot that summer day,
But gloried in the grand serenity
Upon the grassy hill, beside the trees,
Beneath the clouded sky, within the breeze.
A thousand dead, and my poor memory
Could not recall the spot where in my youth
I held my parents' hands and watched them weep--
I held my parents' hands and watched them smile.
I wandered lonely on that silent hill
Viewing the sculptures and the distant church,
Reading the names and dates of other souls
Who passed breathless silence through the gates,
And pondered briefly on their mortal lives,
I dreaming of the way they might have lived.
Today I have returned to pay respect
And find myself upon this hill alone
With flowers in a jar within my hand
Which I have plucked from the garden of old.
I place them just above the metal plaque
And stare upon my brother's written name,
Then glance upon this glorious of scenes
And ponder on his life and there reflect:
To understand as he would understand.
To view this world with eyes abstained from sin.
To live my life as he would have me live,
Free from the guilt with which I wallow in.
To view my hand, corrupt in mortal spite.
To view his hand long withered in the earth.
To love mankind as he would surely love,
Had more he lived than three days from his birth.
I think upon the life he did not live.
The memories of youth in loving arms--
The blessings of a faithful family.
The pain of suffering a woman's charms.
The joy of simple pleasures in the sun.
The dreams and longings of a youthful mind.
The rapture found within a first love's kiss.
The gratitude that comes with being kind.
He may have been a poet well renowned.
He may have been an artist well revered.
He may have been the dream of all our dreams.
He may have been. . . he may have been. . .
And now his body buried in the grave
And I having been buried in my life,
Live less insightful in daily routines.
Perhaps his spirit watches me this day.
Perhaps he feels my life wasted away.
Perhaps he has a hope unparalleled--
The hope the unseen world keeps in its soul
While we upon this busy mortal plane
Blind all our knowledge with such useless cares,
Living our mortal life yet unaware.
Upon my brother's grave I now reflect
And listen for a whisper to my soul.
It gave me opportunity to really evaluate my own life as I thought upon what my brother might be doing on the other side of mortality. I also had a profound sense of gratitude for the atonement of Jesus Christ which makes it possible for all of us to be resurrected--to live again with a perfect body in the life to come.
I should like to include a poem that I had written some time ago when visiting my brother's grave. It is titled "Upon My Brother's Grave" and is in honor of Marc Jeffery Hall (July 20, 1976-July 23, 1976):
There is a quiet hill where thousands sleep
Beneath the grassy waves tossed by the wind,
Where peaceful moments rest in hearts and minds,
Where people rest beneath the azure sky.
There have been days when distant thoughts have fled
And somber reminiscents take their place,
And I, within the valley, turn to look
Upon that green hill, not so far away.
I've glanced upon the beauty of the life
That springs in great abundance from its height
And thought upon my brother and his life
In realms where mortals only dream to dwell.
I've driven, on occasion, to this hill,
And stood, betimes, beside the road where lies
The headstone, and the body there beneath,
Of my dear brother Marc--an infant death.
At times, when young, my parents stood nearby,
And I would watch them with their loving hands,
Place the fresh flowers, from the garden plucked,
Upon the earth in loving memory.
I'd wandered on this hill once unannounced,
Long after all my youthful years were spent,
In search of that dear spot, for what it meant
To my own heart throughout the passing years.
I had not found the spot that summer day,
But gloried in the grand serenity
Upon the grassy hill, beside the trees,
Beneath the clouded sky, within the breeze.
A thousand dead, and my poor memory
Could not recall the spot where in my youth
I held my parents' hands and watched them weep--
I held my parents' hands and watched them smile.
I wandered lonely on that silent hill
Viewing the sculptures and the distant church,
Reading the names and dates of other souls
Who passed breathless silence through the gates,
And pondered briefly on their mortal lives,
I dreaming of the way they might have lived.
Today I have returned to pay respect
And find myself upon this hill alone
With flowers in a jar within my hand
Which I have plucked from the garden of old.
I place them just above the metal plaque
And stare upon my brother's written name,
Then glance upon this glorious of scenes
And ponder on his life and there reflect:
To understand as he would understand.
To view this world with eyes abstained from sin.
To live my life as he would have me live,
Free from the guilt with which I wallow in.
To view my hand, corrupt in mortal spite.
To view his hand long withered in the earth.
To love mankind as he would surely love,
Had more he lived than three days from his birth.
I think upon the life he did not live.
The memories of youth in loving arms--
The blessings of a faithful family.
The pain of suffering a woman's charms.
The joy of simple pleasures in the sun.
The dreams and longings of a youthful mind.
The rapture found within a first love's kiss.
The gratitude that comes with being kind.
He may have been a poet well renowned.
He may have been an artist well revered.
He may have been the dream of all our dreams.
He may have been. . . he may have been. . .
And now his body buried in the grave
And I having been buried in my life,
Live less insightful in daily routines.
Perhaps his spirit watches me this day.
Perhaps he feels my life wasted away.
Perhaps he has a hope unparalleled--
The hope the unseen world keeps in its soul
While we upon this busy mortal plane
Blind all our knowledge with such useless cares,
Living our mortal life yet unaware.
Upon my brother's grave I now reflect
And listen for a whisper to my soul.
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