The Hiding Place

About once a year I reread one of my favorite books.  It is called The Hiding Place and is the personal account of Corrie Ten Boom.  She and her family became prisoners during WW2 as a result of their efforts to hide and help Jews.  She lived in horrible circumstances in the prison camps and lost both her sister and her father.  I don't enjoy reading about the atrocities of the Holocaust, but Corrie Ten Boom's spirit, faith and amazing attitude amidst her great trials are an inspiration to me.  That is what keeps me reading this book again and again.

The camps were dirty, and cold, the food scarce and rotten, the beds crowded and dirty, the work hard, sleep hard to come by, and treatment by the guards brutal.  But, she found a way to be grateful for the smallest of blessings.  At one point she was moved into a new barracks and discovered that it was infested with fleas.  She realized that she could actually be grateful for the fleas, as they kept the guards from coming into the barracks and checking on the prisoners.  While they were in their room, the prisoners were free to talk and pray and read the scriptures, without worries that the guards would make them stop.

In a talk entitled Remembrance and Gratitude, from October 1989 General Conference, Henry B. Eyring quoted a poem called, "How Different."  It points out the difference between the person who complains when even one thing in life is not "just so" and the person who finds the one bright spot in a life that is fraught with difficulty and trial.  Corrie Ten Boom was the second type of person.  Here is the poem.

Some murmur when the sky is clear
And wholly bright to view,
If one small speck of dark appear
In their great heaven of blue:
And some with thankful love are filled,
If but one streak of light,
One ray of God’s good mercy, gild
The darkness of their night.

I needed this reminder today.  I have so much to be grateful for.  I have 9 beautiful children.  I have a husband who loves me, honors his priesthood, and lifts me up and carries me when I feel I cannot walk any further.  I have the gospel in my life.  I have a temple within easy distance of my home where I can go and feel wrapped in the love of my Heavenly Father.   I know of the Savior, and of his love for me. "Counting my Blessings" is not difficult as there are so many.  But I think I want to improve on being grateful for the "fleas" in my life, being grateful for the little things that at first glance, don't even really seem like blessings.