For the husband who complains when his dinner
is not on time, because he is home with me.
For the teenager who is complaining about doing
dishes, because that means she is at home, not
on the streets.
For the taxes I pay, because it means I am employed.
For the mess to clean after a party, because it
means that I have been surrounded by friends.
For the clothes that fit a little too snug,
because it means I have plenty to eat.
For my show that watches me work, because it means
I am out in the sunshine.
For a lawn that needs mowing, windows that need
cleaning, and gutters that need fixing,
because it means I have a home.
For all the complaining I hear about the government,
because it means that we have freedom of speech.
For the parking spot I find at the far end of the
parking lot, because it means I am capable of walking
and that I have been blessed with transportation.
For my huge heating bill, because it means I am warm.
For the lady behind me in church that sings off key,
because it means that I can hear.
For the pile of laundry and ironing, because it means
I have clothes to wear.
For weary and aching muscles at the end of the day,
because it means I have been capable of working hard.
For the clock that goes off in the early morning
hours, because it means that I am alive.
And finally for too much e-mail, because it means I
have friends that are thinking of me.

From an unknown source