Poem January 25, 1936 Issue

Thanksgiving

ANNE CLEVELAND CHENEY

My heart beats high with thankfulness
For many a dear event
The world counts just as little things;
But, ah, how they have meant
Great store for one who learns to bless
Their meaning and their preciousness —

The murmuring or intolerant word,
Hushed ere it went its way
To hurt some heart or hinder it;
A smile where grief claimed sway;
A heaven-sent little song that stirred
Fresh hopefulness in one who heard!

I count them o'er with thankfulness—
Each proof of Love's great power to bless.

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Extracts from Reports of Christian Science Committees on Publication
January 25, 1936
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