I've been searching for the "perfect" Thanksgiving photo. Thought seriously about using a photo that includes all three of our kids, their spouses, and the grandkids, but you already know they're filling us with button-busting pride.
Then I came across this photo of a Nicaraguan Cowboy.
Brenda was in the third or fourth day of leading a stressful clinic in a village on the edge of endless jungle. On the last day this cowboy came into the welcoming classroom and creaked down in a chair beside the door.
"I am fine," he pronounced. "But, if there's space, I'd like to see the American doctor."
He slapped his knees and laughed uproariously when he found Brenda didn't speak Spanish. I think he assumed "everyone in the world" spoke his native language!
There was time. A doctor examined him and pronounced him "fine!" Except, he needed glasses, he had high blood pressure, a couple of his teeth needed filling, and he could do with a new pair of knees. He'd about worn his out while riding the range.
One other thing. This cowboy had a clinically-amazing case of the "Happies." He smiled, told endless jokes, and generally brought a spirit of joy into every room of the clinic. No matter that his hat and face were windblown and worn. No matter that his teeth were nubbins. No matter nothing.
"God is good and I am happy!"