The first time I went to America, I was struck by how often people said “thank you” spontaneously.
Every interaction, even if I was simply walking into a shop, was greeted with a warm “thank you for coming in,” just because I had chosen to step inside.
At first the constant gratitude felt a little uncomfortable, but after a few months I grew accustomed to the habit and began mirroring it myself. When I returned to my homeland, I was surprised once again—this time by how rarely we say “thank you.” Something in me was intent on preserving the habit of gratitude that I had formed while living abroad.
One day I was in a store when the young woman behind the counter was harshly insulted by a customer. The scene startled me; I was standing at the back of the shop, far enough to watch but close enough to feel her shame, anger, sadness, and even fear. I walked over to her station. She hunched her shoulders, hiding herself and avoiding eye contact—clearly embarrassed about something that wasn’t her fault.
I rehearsed what I might say: “The customer was terribly unkind; you deserve a better job,” and a string of other comforting words. Yet when my turn arrived and I stood to pay, my mind went blank. She looked at me timidly, waiting for words she didn’t want to hear—she just wanted to move on. In that brief, charged moment, my thoughts aligned with my heart, and without thinking, I said, in a way I never had before: “Thank you.”
She lifted her face, met my gaze, and for three quiet seconds our eyes exchanged a silent understanding—a small burst of love and empathy.
The habit of expressing gratitude, which I had practiced for months, surfaced effortlessly when I needed it most. I’m grateful that I adopted that behavior.
Sometimes a single “thank‑you” pause is enough to restore calm, turning negative thoughts into a more positive outlook for ourselves and others.
I’ve often heard the saying, “You are what you think.” So I try to focus on the good in people, places, and circumstances, choosing to heal rather than to hurt or complain—an act of love toward myself.
When we say thank you, we recognize the beauty in others. In that simple acknowledgment lies a quiet form of prayer. So, thank you for reading this far.
