juxtapose |ˈjəkstəˌpōz; ˌjəkstəˈpōz|
verb [ trans. ]
place or deal with close together for contrasting effect

Today, I am thankful for juxtapositions, as in:

• Hot, tomato soup on a damp winter night.
Satisfaction in the simplicity of tomatoes — warmed, dished, salted and served.

• In a pile of bills, I find a letter.
I'll send you my stories, writes the young woman. I guess it's kind of a waste of paper because I could email them but it just seems wrong to me not to have stuff on paper.

Yes, I think. Exactly. In just a few words she has summed my life.

• A sugarplum has no home.
Yesterday, Happy Hour for Readers & Writers lived up to its name.

I feel like I'm inside a sugarplum, said the nine-year-old, launching us into laughter and poem-making.

We were giddy with imagination. We floated on whip cream clouds and bubblegum sweetness. We couldn't wait to speak our poems, dance our poems, and share ourselves. Quickly, the hour ended. Goodbye, sugarplum, we said to each other, as we waved our way toward home.

But not all the sugarplums went home. Last night, as rain and winter closed in, one child curled up with her family and slept in a car.

I want to be thankful for juxtapositions but sometimes gratitude carries a sadness, too.

Today is Thankful Thursday, the weekly pause to appreciate people, places, things. What are you thankful for today?