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Numerous studies describe the benefits of practicing thankfulness.  One such study in the Harvard Health Review found that keeping a gratitude journal increased happiness.  Two psychologists, Dr. Robert A. Emmons of the University of California, Davis, and Dr. Michael E. McCullough of the University of Miami, have researched gratitude. In one study, they asked all participants to write a few sentences each week, focusing on topics.

One group wrote about things they were grateful for that had occurred during the week. A second group wrote about daily irritations or things that had displeased them, and the third wrote about events that had affected them (with no emphasis on them being positive or negative). After ten weeks, those who wrote about gratitude were more optimistic and felt better about their lives. Surprisingly, they also exercised more and had fewer visits to physicians than those who focused on sources of aggravation.

I found this to be true in my daily life.  I have kept a gratitude journal over the last seven years.  In addition, I use an app on my phone called HappyFeed to record moments of gratefulness throughout the day.  But one pivotal event in my life will forever cement the power of Thanksgiving.

The event was one of the happiest and saddest in my life. I learned many leadership lessons from my dad -Big D. This story is the last one I learned from Big D and one that I will never forget. It is about the power of being thankful – the ultimate game changer. So, without further to-do, here is the story of the Thanksgiving Calves.

Big D and my mom moved to “The Land” in the late 90s when my Dad retired from Turbocare in Houston. The Land was 30 to 50 acres (depending on how pumped up Dad was feeling that day) in a little town called Slocum in East Texas (population 250). On The Land were a lake (built by my Dad and mom), trees (sycamore, sweet gum), acres of Coastal Grass, and ten extremely overweight cows.

The cows were overweight because my Dad treated them like pets and allowed his grandchildren to feed them early and often. Each cow had a name – Rosie, Susie, Big.

Bertha, etc. – and each was given to a grandchild for a portion of their inheritance.

Dad used to point to a cow and say something like this:

Big D – You see Rosie over there.

Kerri – Yes, that’s my cow! She likes to eat this feed.

Big D – Well, Rosie will have a cow, and that cow will have another cow, which will be for you.

Kerri – Yeah, Grandpop. I love cows.

In the summer of 2002, each of those cows was ready to make the first deposit on the grandchildren’s inheritance. Each was pregnant and set to deliver sometime in November. Unfortunately, Big D was not to see it from here on earth. On November 5, 2002, Big D passed away from a heart attack out near the fence where we would feed the cows. This is the sad part of the story.

Now let’s turn to the story’s happy part and moral. My entire family and I went to The Land for one last Thanksgiving to be with Mom. As we arrived, some light snow had fallen. As we rounded the bend to The Land, we saw two calves just born and starting to walk. The rest of that day and into Thanksgiving Day, nine of the ten calves were born. The only issue was Rosie and her calf belonging to Kerri.

Rosie got extra feed from Kerri and Big D. This was on top of the prodigious coastal grass. Rosie was having trouble birthing her calves. One hour before Thanksgiving dinner, the issue had reached a crisis.

Rosie was mooing loudly and was running around with her half-born calf. Jim from the next farm over had come by to wish us well. He immediately assessed the issue and told my brother and me we had to take Rosie to the vet. Jim went and got his truck and trailer. He also brought our other neighbor, John, another admirer of my dad, and we started to try to corral Rosie into her pen so we could load her into the trailer.

So for the next hour and a half, while the turkey was getting cold, we went up and down The Land, trying to get Rosie into her pen. After many fits and starts (a cow in birth distress is fast and scared), we finally got Rosie behind the plywood gate that passed as our pen.

The next step was filled with hilarity and near tragedy. Before anyone could stop him, my brother Gary got this great idea that he could rope Rosie. Doing his best rendition of John Wayne, he made a makeshift lasso and threw it at her. It did not land correctly but did serve to spook Rosie yet again. I was just outside the pen when the 500-pound cow broke through the plywood gate and straight at me! Let’s say that I moved faster than ever before or since jumping away and landing face down in the mud. Rosie just barely missed me.

Although that last action nearly killed me, it finally tired Rosie out. At 7:00 PM, we finally got Rosie in the trailer. John returned to what was left of his Thanksgiving Dinner after my brother, and I profusely thanked him. Then, Jim and I went to see the vet on call 3o miles away.

On the way to the vet, I secretly prayed that the calf would be all right. Repeatedly, I thought, “Please let the calf be alright,” while Jim and I told stories about Big D and how he would have dealt with Rosie and the calf. I knew he was up there somewhere smiling. We finally got to the vet at about 7:40.

Now, what comes next is fantastic. I had never seen a calf being born; it was a tremendous sight. The vet wrapped a rope around the half-born calf and pulled it. After a few moments that seemed like an eternity, the calf was born – Rosie, Jr. After lying on the ground for a few moments, the calf made its first few steps and was alive. Rosie, although in rough shape at the time, fully recovered.

And at that moment, despite missing Thanksgiving Dinner, I was never more thankful. I was grateful for the gift of the cows from my Dad. I was thankful for the timing and happiness that the calves’ birth gave me and my family. I was grateful for Jim and John, who gave up most of their Thanksgiving to get Rosie to the vet. I was thankful for the gift of new life facilitated by the vet.

Whenever I feel let down or frustrated, I think back to the story of the Thanksgiving calves. And that is a Game Changer. Counting your blessings can change your attitude to one of positivity. It can lift you out of the despair of failure and toward the hope of tomorrow. Here are some thoughts on how to practice an attitude of gratitude.

1. Like Jim and John, who helped to catch Rosie, show appreciation to your family and friends who help you daily. No person is an Island, and our loved ones help us accomplish the mission God has given us!

2. Be thankful for your vocation. Your vocation gives you exciting, engaging work that, quite frankly, puts Thanksgiving dinner on the table (of course, sometimes it prevents you from eating it).

3. Express thanks for the inheritance that was given to you from those who have led the way. Like the Thanksgiving calves that were the inheritance given to my kids from Big D, we all need to remember the people who helped us along the way.

In closing, I would like to share a poem with all of you for this Thanksgiving.

Better attributes you’ll never find,
Then those of being loving and kind!
Showing God’s smile day by day,
Lightening the load along the way.

In this week of thanks and heart,
All of us must do our part,
To spread joy and happiness everywhere,
And to show those around you that you care!

Happy Thanksgiving!