The Thanking Room
In the land where time is space there is a magical place known as the thanking room. Within the great golden walls of the thanking room angels and men with large warm hearts breathe in unison with God and with each other in a festival of thanksgiving.
Most of the residents of the thanking room once lived in a huge dark place that seemed to be too big to be called a room, where there was very little thankfulness; where the risen sun pulled gardens full of fruits and flowers up to meet it but no human looked up to stop and feel its warmth. There grabber princes believed that a person’s worth was measured by how much he had amassed for himself by his own strength and smarts. Many people didn’t even know what they believed; they simply ate and drank and slept, and pretended to work hard in a big circle of well trained animalness that fed the governor pieces of mush at the 45 degree mark of every rotation.
Large Russian bells rang in a cacophony of mystical sonorous tones calling to hearts to come off of the circle, and out of the strength of their bodies and wills. The bells rang incessantly from within a tall stone tower that protected them from wind and snow. They did not make their sonorous sounds by themselves, but with large thick ropes connected to them that were pulled by monks of the one true God who created the sun and everything beneath it. Each monk of a different size and weight was connected by rope to a bell of a corresponding size and weight. Together bell and monk made tones that pleased the one true God, and did so joyously.
Not everyone could hear the bells ringing so busy were they. Some could only hear them faintly, but for others the bells were deafening and called to them to come out.
Strong-willed self-sufficient hearts that left the circle to follow the sonorous sounds of the bells were lead by the tone of the bells through the valley of the shadow of death where the fear of the unfamiliar and unknown gripped them. Some ran fast back to the circle for fear of death, but others lost their way and couldn’t turn back because the bells had driven them too far. Those who by strength of will or want who made it through the valley of the shadow of death found the thanking room to be a place of refuge and quickly ran in.
It was soon discovered by newcomers that thankfulness was a by-product of enlightenment, the awareness that gratitude knitted together the souls of giver and recipient. The newcomer saw the unity of camaraderie and wanted more than anything else to become a part of it.
In the thanking room though, it isn’t enough that one heart thanks another in a temporary link the gift makes. These kinds of links, plentiful in the dark country, are broken as easily as the gifts which make them.
What makes the thanking room extraordinary is a fragrance from burning incense that fills the air of the room with beauty just as a holy spirit fills it with intangible delight. Glowing candles teach each heart that light emanates from total sacrifice and that light annihilates the darkness of divisiveness and of ignorance. Learned hearts seek ways to make light by giving of themselves. And in the thanking room God gives of Himself, energy and essence, spirit food and body food to feed the thankful and He is thankful too that so many had been drawn by the bells to the thanking room.
The old wise residents of the thanking room who still remember where they were born never cease to be amazed by how in the thanking room hearts work harder and give so much more than in the old country. However, being thankful for the work and joyful in the giving of it make all the difference.
So it is that together God and the angels and the thankful hearts breathing in unison, will live happily ever after.