Every Day Is (Or Should Be) Thanksgiving

Every day should be Thanksgiving.  No, that doesn’t mean we should stuff ourselves with a turkey stuffed with–well, stuffing, along with yams, cranberries, and pumpkin pie on a daily basis.  Nor should we routinely park in front of the television after being so gorged for a marathon session of football-viewing.  And it certainly doesn’t mean it is a good idea to rush out to the nearest megastore or shopping mall immediately following the above activities every day to join the throngs looking for bargains, or simply getting an early start on seasonal shopping!

What I do mean is this.  There is so much around us in this marvelous world of ours that is worthy of our notice, appreciation, and thanks.  Take a look at a bare tree (those of you who live in northern climates).  See those little buds?  Yes, those are next year’s leaves, waiting for the right moment to unfurl.  If that isn’t miraculous, I don’t know what is.  And think about a fragile little butterfly.  In the fall, it makes an arduous trek all the way to Mexico or another warm spot where it spends the winter–before mating and returning north in the spring.  Once back, the female lays her eggs on only one type of plant–a milkweed–because it’s the only one whose leaves her offspring will eat.

There’s so much more.  An ultrasound picture of a yet-to-be-born grandchild at the age of about 13 weeks thumb-sucking.  Bright, sunny, unseasonably warm weather when we don’t have to go to work.  I could go on and on, but the brilliant warmth outside is calling me. . .

Neverending Thanksgiving

The day Americans set aside to express our thanks for the good things and wonderful people in our lives has passed.  However, if I needed a reminder that every day contains something–or someone–for which to be grateful, I have received not one but many.  Reminder number one: our married son and our Florida son-in-law came to town for a convention, and each brought a child along.  Happiness is having your almost-five-year-old and almost-four-year-old grandsons meet for the first time since the younger was a baby, and enjoy each other’s company.  And the icing on the cake: the youngsters were pleased to see us older folks.  Reminder number two: A not-quite-three-year-old granddaughter wants to call Grandma, and carries on an intelligent conversation.  But that isn’t surprising: she’s a book lover.  Reminder number three: My husband (who had to work today) took one look at the piles of dishes overflowing in the sink and took pity on me–and washed every last one himself last night.  Enough said.  Reminder number four: The weather says October even though the calendar says late November.  We are expected to have two more days of spring before we have a reality check.

I’m making a resolution: to try to think of at least one thing every day that I am (or should be) thankful for.  I wonder if anyone will notice.

Improvisation

I am a believer in the impromptu.  Not that preparation and planning are not important; a well-thought-out program, class session, faculty presentation, book talk, or shopping trip often goes much more smoothly and with fewer snags.  However, on many occasions, off-the-cuff sessions and talks have become a necessity.

There was, for example, the time a teacher (who had taught first grade for many years but that year was also teaching a fifth-grade class) called me early to ask if I could give her students a lesson later that morning on the predictability of books’ outcomes.  Since the teacher did not specify which class was coming to the library, I naturally assumed the lesson was for the first graders, and planned accordingly.  Surprise.  When some older girls entered the library five minutes before the scheduled beginning of the session, I realized I had better revise my game plan fast.  I quickly grabbed a bunch of fifth-grade-interest novels off the shelves, thought of the saying, “Don’t judge a book by its cover,” and asked the students to guess the plot by the picture on the front of each.  A lively discussion ensued, at the end of which the kids were clamoring to borrow the books we talked about.  The next day the teacher told me how much everyone gained by the session.  I did my best not to laugh.

It happened again yesterday.  I had a second-grade class scheduled for 12:00 and planned to read a rather lengthy book.  Afterwards, I would follow up on my last session with this group–at which I book talked some of my favorites and read one of them–by asking the kids to write down the name of their favorite book on a ballot.  12:00, 12:05, 12:10 came and went–and no class.  There would not be time for the long book.  What to do?  Serendipity strikes again.  A perusal of the picture book shelves revealed a short but entertaining Thanksgiving book I had looked for earlier but did not see.  And there was a lovely story with an attractive cover (Getting to Know Ruben Plotnick by Roz Rosenbluth–see review at http://bookandagarden.com) I was looking forward to sharing with a class.  So, when the kids finally arrived at 12:15, with barely half an hour, we rushed through book check-in, and I put the choice of a read-aloud to a vote.  To my surprise, the Thanksgiving book won by a landslide.  After I read Thanksgiving with Me by Margaret Willey, with delightful illustrations by Lloyd Bloom, the kids responded enthusiastically to the story, and it was quickly snapped up by an eager borrower!  And, to my further amazement, there was time for the students to fill out the favorite book ballots and check out new reading material.  When the kids departed, I began to think of this class visit as one of my more successful ones in recent weeks…

These experiences make me think that to the list of abilities a librarian possesses, we should add improvisation.  I didn’t know I had it in me.