The Fruits of Our Labor

Today I am grateful for enjoyable family time, good food to share, and the ease of electricity.

Last week my mom and I went out and picked raspberries together a couple afternoons. We picked both the yellow and red varieties. The yellow are sweeter, in my opinion, but I pretty much like any kind of raspberry. It had been quite some time since I had picked raspberries, and pleased with our efforts one day I took this picture of the fruits of our labor:

Some of my siblings and other family members might recognize the plastic measuring cup on the left. That thing has been in the family for decades. It worked well for this task because it is lightweight and has a handle.

As we picked, a few things struck me. My mom asked me to hold the cup because she was worried she might drop it. She also appreciated me joining her because she was pretty sure I would see more berries than her, with her vision worsening. 

The fact of the matter was that I missed many ripe berries at first glance too. The bushes were really leafy and full. You could only see more fruit with a change in perspective and a little more effort.

Isn't that the way life and gratefulness are too? You only have more fruit to pick when you keep looking and keep working.

My mom may be getting more frail, but she hasn't stopped searching for and finding the fruits of her labor. Come to think if it, I am one of the fruits of her labor. The least I can do is keep producing gratitude and keep contributing what I can in this world.