Counting One’s Blessings: 56 Reasons to be Grateful

Counting One’s Blessings: 56 Reasons to be Grateful

Asma Ahmed (LIFE)

Khaleej Times dt. 11.2.09




This story goes back some years. I was young then, and took a while to accept and adjust to change. The best problem-solving mechanism that I knew was letting the tears roll down for as long as they did.

But the circumstances of my story are no different from those that I hear just about every day in these trying times. With people losing their jobs, earnings and savings left right and centre, this seems like a perfect moment to write about what were probably the two most horrible weeks of my life. My troubles began on the day my little boy took his first steps. It was also the day my firstborn said her first complete sentence,
 ‘I want water’.

I was deliriously happy, and counting the hours before my husband came home so I could surprise him with the little ones’ achievement.

But it was my husband who surprised (or should I say shocked) me by returning early that day, only to tell me that he had lost his job in a major downsizing of his company.

I could not decide whether to tell my husband and celebrate my children’s move towards independence, or burst into tears, because they were my son’s first steps towards a lifetime of 
responsibilities, most of which will revolve around providing for other people, for my husband’s joblessness meant that we could no longer send home money or afford to pay the houseboy’s wages.

As news of the layoff got around, people began to call in to sympathise and offer support. But with all those researches going around about the money/ happiness connection (which most economists and psychologists say isn’t such a big link), I was nearly tempted to say to those who called in to express sympathy and support, oh money doesn’t really matter.

To some who seemed to be calling only to hear me wallow in self-pity and then end the call to tell the person next to them how stupid we had been to rent a two-bedroom instead of one, or buy a new car instead of a second-hand one, I said just that. After all, it is true 
that many of those who have lots of money are not really happy, even when they are able to buy that dream house and four-wheeler that they always wanted to own.

But at a time when the global recession had hit home (literally), I cannot deny the fact that I looked into all my secret hideaways, in the hope that I might have stashed some money and forgotten about it. And upon finding those places empty, I tried to wish money into them by magic.

Each time that I prayed, I always told the Almighty how great it would be to win a cash prize in the countless raffle draws that were taking place in malls. Oh, and I was constantly counting 
the money (and jewellery) that we had, and calculating how long we 
could make it last. But except worrying myself sick, there was absolutely nothing that I did that can be termed positive or productive in those first 
two weeks of adjusting to our new state of affairs.

At a time when I should have been the solid pillar of support that my husband was looking for, I spent most of my time wondering why this was happening to us — a common phenomenon amongst those who lose something precious.

In our case, it was monetary stability and a house that we had spent many painstaking hours to decorate and settle into (not to mention the countless visits to IKEA which was still a not-so-common place to buy furniture).

After nearly two years of my husband’s hard work, we were finally in a position to start a savings account, and in my anger, I kept asking the Almighty why he never helped us have what others got effortlessly.

Unfortunately, such a train of thoughts can be quite self-destructive. When I should have spent my waking hours praying harder than usual, or keeping the children out of the way while my husband was filling out job applications on recruiting web sites, all I could do was burst into tears each time I looked at the red and blue walls of my children’s room. I had spent precious hours deciding what colour to paint the children’s room and another two days doing just that. It was in this state of utter depression that I received an e-mail from a friend who had learnt of our misfortune. Amongst the many other things that she said, she suggested I do a ‘gratitude exercise’.

Make a list of the things that you are grateful for, literally, she said, and count your blessings. Right then, it seemed like a silly idea, but after a fortnight of sleeplessness, I woke up in the morning, staggered to my desk and decided to give it a shot.

I began with the bigger things in life like a loving husband, the prayers and support of our parents, two wonderful children and our collective health and wellbeing, going right down to even the tomato plants in my balcony garden that were now in full bloom.

And there it was. I had 56 things on my list of things to be thankful for, and probably lots more that did not come to my mind just then.

I put my list in the drawer, took a peek at the kids who were still sleeping peacefully and stepped out into the balcony to admire my little garden. I already knew that things were going to get better, for with those 56 things on my list, the Almighty had already sent us signs that He was with us.