The person who has stopped being thankful has fallen asleep in life.
Each has his own tree of ancestors, but at the top of all sits Probably Arboreal.
I've a grand memory for forgetting.
Sing a song of seasons; something bright in all, flowers in the summer, fires in the fall.
A bottle of good wine, like a good act, shines ever in the retrospect.
Loving God, help us remember the birth of Jesus, that we may share in the song of the angels, the gladness of the shepherds, and the worship of the wise men.