Gratitude is the key to a life of contentment and joy and yet it still eludes me. I can wake up and whisper gratitude to my heart. I can stir my morning cup to its tune. I can give thanks for my health, my family, my home and then I watch it slip through my fingers as life gets in the way. Running late for school, flat tires, crabby kids, burnt supper, piles of laundry, dirty dishes, arguments with my husband. Pretty soon, my song of thanks, is a repeat in my head of all the wrongs, all that is unfair. Even though I know that if I remain thankful, I can change my own attitude, it is sometimes so much easier to slip into resentment. Gratitude takes practice, discipline. Resentment is easy. How easy it is for me to feel unappreciated when I am folding my seventh pile of laundry, how simple it is to resent the dirty floors I just swept five minutes ago, how enticing to grumble about cleaning up the toys for the hundredth time. But how hard it is for me to be thankful for t