Blessed are the merciful for they shall obtain mercy. . .
Blessed are the meek for they shall inherit the earth . . .
Matthew 5:3-12

Hearing the minister speak these cherished words from the Sermon on the Mount, I thought blessed are the young parents sitting in the pew across the aisle from me, as well.

Having their toddler son with them, they chose the last row near the exit, and they immediately took him out when he became restless and started crying.

I’ve been in church when parents have ignored their children’s fussing. It serves to ruin the pastor’s message and destroys the mood of worship, so I especially appreciated these parents’ thoughtful gesture. And it brought to mind the many thoughtful gestures of other people in my life.

I have a small cadre of friends and relatives who have sent me a birthday card every year for as long as I can remember. They take the trouble to select the right card, address the envelope, and seek out a mailbox to send it off to arrive right on time.

My good friend, Vince, unfailingly first stops at a bakery to buy a jelly donut for me every Saturday morning before coming to our volunteer shift at the NWA History Museum.

And there are those serious situations where people selflessly go above and beyond the call to show their thoughtfulness.

Twelve year ago, my very ill husband Earl had taken a turn for the worse. As the ambulance drove off with Earl in it, my neighbor Martha quietly walked through my front door and asked how she could help.

And eons ago, on another day I’ll never forget, I was 12-years-old and staying with my sister Adeline on the farm where she lived. Adeline discovered her husband dead of a heart attack in their pasture. Her farmer neighbors, overhearing on the party line Adeline’s frantic telephone calls to town for help, slowly began appearing. Their cars entered the driveway, one by one.

So I say:

Blessed are the thoughtful for they shall reap enormous gratitude.

And I suppose here I could use the overworked cliché, “I feel so blessed.”  But it is so true. I really am.

Carol Hall lives in Woodbury. She’s a longtime freelance writer, a University of Minnesota graduate and a former Northwest Airlines stewardess. Hall’s book, Stewardess, relives the golden age of airline travel in the 1960s when she was a stewardess for Northwest Airlines. It is available for sale on Amazon.com.

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