I am privileged to have been raised in the wooded hills near the village of Sugar Grove—a quiet community nestled into the gentle slopes carved-out during the glacial age; which my granddaughters believe to have occurred somewhere around the time I entered Mrs. Hoover’s first grade class at Berne Union.
Even today, when I breathe in deeply the woodsy musk of those canopied hillsides, I’m transported to an earlier time—like the faint wisp of Windsong which was the perfume Marilyn wore in the early years of our courtship.
The generous Sugar Maples, from which the village derives its name, 
continue to hold their umbrellas over Main Street. Like anxious guardians, they lean over the wide boulevard comforting the peaceful homes beneath. I recently visited there and was pleased to see very little has changed since the tenure of my youth.
I most relate to the familiar structures that anchor the village: Berne Union School to the north and the feed mill at the south. But, my favorite has to be Mary’s Drug Store, which, until recently, contained a menagerie of stuffed wild animals, bagged by Mary’s father in the late 19th century.
For generations of Berne Union’s school kids, Mary and her husband Paul maintained an oasis of fine refreshment. The tired hinge creak and the slap of the screen door announced each customer. Just inside sat a double-wide water chilled, pop cooler: no sports drinks here…no electrolytes or vitamin additives; only brightly colored sugar drinks that fizzed up your nose and rushed pure adrenaline down your parched throat. Added cooling was provided by the icy water that ran down your sweaty little arms and onto the oiled hardwood floor. There were no coin slots or mechanical dispensing. You simply plunged your hand into the icy water and fished out your favorite cola. Incredibly, Paul managed to track dozens of boys at one time, ready to tally the total for the sodas and Hostess Cupcakes we’d consume before we peddled off.
If you were among those privileged to have experienced Mary’s Drug Store, it’s very likely you’re smiling now as your memory ricochets off those dust encrusted animal carcasses and yellowed display cabinets. Your mind’s eye sees the dark, antique wood and glass-enclosed display shelves, teeming with toxic, outdated cure-alls and liniments as they reach toward the 15 foot high tinned ceiling. Cabinets that once reflected the orderliness of a well run, albeit antique pharmacy, now resting in dust and obsolescence; overseen by a cadre of exotic stuffed fowl and pouncing raccoons, all frozen in taxidermy.
And there, leaning over the huge furnace grate in the middle of the floor, sat Mary, regaling to anyone who might listen as she told about her tenure as the strictest instructor to ever teach at The Boys Industrial School. I’m grateful for these memories.
The Bible tells us it’s a good thing to remember our blessings for they establish markers that remind us of God’s blessing. The Israelites, running scared from their enemy, escaped over dry ground that was, just moments before, the Red Sea; only to turn and see their enemy drown in its returning wake. Their response was to stop and build a stone monument, reminding them always, what the Lord had done for them there.
.There’s a powerful portion of Scripture reminding us of the importance of being grateful to God. In essence, Paul instructs us that gratitude comes from a proper perspective of who God is and from whom we receive all things good.
“I’m speaking to you out of deep gratitude for all God has given me. Living then, as every one of you does, in pure grace, it’s important that you not misinterpret yourselves as people who are bringing this goodness to God. No, God brings it all to you. The only accurate way to understand ourselves is to acknowledge who God is and what He does for us, not by what we are and what we do for Him.” Romans 12:3
Gratitude is one of the truest forms of worship. You might not think of yourself as a very spiritual person, but may I remind you that when you remember the good things in life, when you realize those things are gifts from God, you enter into an invisible sanctuary to find God already there.