Thomas Gaddis’s book, The Birdman of Alcatraz, is a biography of the convicted criminal and two-time murderer, Robert Stroud. Stroud spent most of his seventy years behind bars and in solitary confinement in the prison known as Alcatraz. During his first twenty years of confinement, he became increasingly withdrawn, bitter, and harder to handle. Needless to say, he was considered to be a maximum-security risk.
However, something happened that drastically changed Stroud’s life. During one of the prison courtyard exercise periods, a tiny sparrow fell from its nest during a storm. Stroud found the sparrow, and initially had the impulse to snuff out the little bird’s life just as he had snuffed out the lives of two human beings – but he didn’t! Instead, he carried the sparrow to his cell and nursed it back to health.
His interest had been aroused, and he read everything he could on the subject of birds. Other prisoners began sending their ill canaries to him. When encountering diseases that had no known cure, he would experiment and often find a cure. Little by little he was changed from an incorrigible prisoner to a quiet, serious, able authority on birds.
One day Stroud asked his guard, a man with whom he had previously refused to speak, for the orange crate on which he was sitting, that he might make a cage for his sparrow. “For twenty years I’ve tried to get through to you and be nice to you,” the guard said, “but you have never given me the time of day.” After a few minutes of silence, however, the guard had a change of heart and slipped the orange crate into the cell. When Stroud noticed it, he mumbled two words he had probably never said before: “Thank you!”
Robert Stroud’s rehabilitation began the moment he learned to say, “Thank you,” and mean it. Only then did he begin to understand himself. He began to realize that he was not the isolated, self-sufficient, independent character he had so long pretended to be. In the same way, it is only when we can say: “Thank you,” and mean it, that we begin to understand ourselves for what we are – creatures rather than creators, receivers who can learn to become givers. Paul Tillich spoke wisely when he said: “A man who is able to give thanks seriously accepts that he is a creature and acknowledges his finitude.”
It is only by being grateful that we can recognize how dependent we are – upon God first of all, and also upon others, for our very being. It is always a tragedy when we forget who we are and why we are here. This is what the ancient writer of Deuteronomy meant when he said, “Be careful that you do not forget the Lord your God, failing to observe his commands, his laws and his decrees that I am giving you this day. Otherwise, when you eat and are satisfied, when you build fine houses and settle down, and when your herds and flocks grow large and your silver and gold increase and all you have is multiplied, then your heart will become proud and you will forget the Lord your God” (Deuteronomy 8:10-14a NIV).
Is this not an accurate picture of what is happening in our country today? When we forget to give thanks, or refuse to give thanks, we forget who we are – creatures of the living God, dependent upon Him for our very being. There are basically three reasons why we need to have the spirit of thanksgiving in our lives: (1) to teach us who we are, (2) to remind us that we belong to God, and (3) to make us aware of the countless ways we are blessed by God and by others.
He who forgets the language of gratitude can never be on speaking terms with happiness.