Gratitude is always free-range.

Tea: Double Orange Chocolate Truffle

Music: Redbone, "Come and Get Your Love"

Time: Night.

I was prepared to unleash some serious snark when I saw this post on WalletPop's "Fantastic Freebies" blog.

This big smelly corporate poultry concern (A Yahoo! search using the keywords "Tyson chicken pollution" turns up ... wait for it ... 189,000 results.) was going to teach people how to be thankful for their food?

But I took a look at some of the examples posted -- everything from the flippant (Bart Simpson's "Rub-a-dub-dub, thanks for the grub" to the beautiful ("Now that I am about to eat, O Great Spirit, give my thanks to the beasts and birds whom You have provided for my hunger, and pray deliver my sorrow that living things must make a sacrifice for my comfort and well-being. Let the feather of corn spring up in its time and let it not wither but make full grains for the fires of our cooking pots, now that I am about to eat.")

And I thought, "Why not take a longer look?" So I clicked.

Reminding people that each meal is a grace and a cause for gratitude won't undo years of abysmal stewardship. But disliking the messenger is no reason to disregard the message.

Worn

Tea: Pu Erh Poe with Ginger and Honey

Music: Elvis Costello, "Almost Blue"

Time: Night.

It's been a wearing weekend. And I am worn.

But I and mine are loved and cared for, thought of and prayed for.

And that helps. Immeasurably.

It's a grace and a gratitude, and I am grateful.

Measure of a Man

Tea: Assam Ginger (morning)/ Yerba Maté (turning of the day)/ Matcha (early afternoon)

Music: Cassandra Wilson, "Tupelo Honey"

Time: Pretty much all day

My father once said (or, more accurately, said about once a year) that, "The beauty of a man is tenderness."

This straight man has opened and closed his day seeing that kind of beauty.

There was Paolo, holding his young daughter with effortless (and obvious) affection in a Brooklyn tea shop. His eight-year-old son elbowed him to get his attention, and Paolo gave him that attention without a hint of irritation. The man radiated quiet love for his family.

And tonight, on the subway ride back from Manhattan, there was Brian, with his new wife and their children. He is headed to Iraq in January -- scarcely enough time to settle into this new shared life before putting his own on the line. It was apparent that he wasn't going to waste a minute between now and then.

And they shamed me. For every missed chance to be tender, for every needlessly harsh word, for every good word left unspoken.

But each day is a new chance. God help me not to miss them.