11 years ago, i started what I liked to call a “gratitude journal.”
i stole the idea from Oprah & my first entry was an introduction to what would be the start of journals upon journals, musings, enlightenments, ramblings and epifanys.
“today’s date: april 19, 2000. i’m 12 years old. it’s 3:23 pm and i’m in my room. this is the best book to have because it only descirbes what i’m thankful for, not what i want or what i’m not grateful for . . . .”
i then begin to start the list. it spans thirteen pages.
i covered it all.
i wouldn’t consider this the top ten of my list, but here are a few highlights.
- hole punchers
- socks & shoes (cute & reeboks)
- dinnerware (plates, cups, forks, knives & spoons)
- $ (not too much)
- white out
- hair salons
- homeless shelters
- stuffed animals
- fake nails
yes, this is just the beginning of what i am thankful for.
how beautiful is the 12 year old mind? seriously.
it baffles my mind that a little 7th grade girl, in between riding bikes, rollerblading, dance classes galore, talking on the phone, doing homework, fighting with mom, fighting with brother, sleepovers, birthday parties, boy obsessions and cheerleading, had the desire to write down all she was thankful for. every.single.thing.
one day i might have the time to type up all 13 pages. but just know, i list every thing & every person i knew at the time.
interesting: i am very heavy on the thanks for office supplies. ironic seeing as how my career is surrounded by such items. especially not surprised that white out made the list . . . 😉
today, i am encouraged by an eleven year old journal filled with a 12 year old girl’s dream, desires and heart.
it’s innocently beautiful.