This morning we are a country in shock.  Most of us feel like we have experienced something like a miscarriage.

I just made the mistake of  flipping past a bit of “news” on a “major” network.  The topic under “discussion” was “post-election stress disorder.”  (I think that sentence contains a record of quotation marks.)

As for me, I have decided to focus, in this season of Thanksgiving, on counting my blessings. Gratitude is such a joyful thing.

I am remembering twenty years ago when I had just moved here.  In those days, Minto Brown Park was still mostly corn fields with lots of muddy paths.  I rode my bike through them as often as I could.  One day, I got literally stuck in the mud and three farm workers from Central America came to my rescue.

I always take the opportunity to practice my extremely-limited high-school Spanish.  These men were eager to engage in a conversation about the up-coming US presidential election.  Does anyone remember 1996?  It was Bill Clinton vs. Bob Dole.

I tried to ask about the political situation in El Salvador and the workers had questions about the political “customs” here.  I will never forget one comment that was made by a muddy man who respectfully held his hat in his hand as he spoke to me:

“No matter which man is elevated, very few Americans will be killed.”

Wow!

As I count my blessings, way up near the top of the list is living in this country.