Being Thankful

If there is a god to be thankful to, I say 'if', to the delight of at least one of my kin, I don't say a god is impossible, just staggeringly unlikely, then I should be thankful to it.

I sit here in the dark of my night time workshop, the digital radio is belting out a succession of terrific songs - I am hearing songs I have listened to for forty years, as if for the first time. I can see stars and understand enough of cosmology to know something of what that means. I am, not only a member of the greatest species the planet has ever seen, but also, a member of the favoured race and the favoured sex, within that species.

I was born in The United Kingdom, a western world power, with high standard of health, nutrition and education. My parents had the option to move to another continent where economic opportunities were greater. So we did.

We now live in a country that could afford to pay me to study and didn't charge me a cent for the privilege. I do love my country. From the Snowy to the red dirt, I feel a part of the land in a way that you wouldn't think a migrant could. Australia is safe, democratic, the military play no part in the government and the courts are scrupulously fair. Fair to people like me anyway. Even though we happily send our service folk to any war that invites us, I never had to fight. Not that I didn't serve... I was in the Army Reserve, for exactly as long as it suited me. I was paid well for it too.

I was lucky enough to have an business idea that paid for a lot of what surrounds me. A comfortable home, clean water and all the food I want. But above all I have a family and good friends. My children love and respect me and I, them. I have a great marriage, my wife loves and cares for me.

I am as thankful as I am fortunate.

And here comes Otis Reading. Life is great!