It’s November, a month traditionally steeped in gratitude, yet the world feels heavy right now. Wars rage across the globe, the economy feels uncertain, a government shutdown has disrupted travel and strained food banks, and late-season Hurricane Melissa has left communities reeling. In moments like these, it can be hard to find reasons to be thankful. But sometimes, gratitude comes from the quiet realization of what we still have and what others may be struggling without.

When I saw the news about Jamaica and the ongoing struggle for clean water in the aftermath of Hurricane Melissa, it reminded me just how easy it is to take the simple act of turning on a faucet for granted. Most of us don’t think twice about running water until it’s gone. But when it’s gone, you never forget.

I know that firsthand. As a teenager, I once experienced a water shutoff, and it was both humbling and unsettling. There’s a certain vulnerability that comes when something so basic is suddenly out of reach. You realize how much you depend on it, not just for comfort, but for dignity.

My mom often told me stories from her childhood, growing up in poverty and eventually in foster care. Her happiest memories weren’t about things, but about moments spent at her grandmother’s house, a place filled with love, even though it lacked modern conveniences. They didn’t have indoor plumbing, and the outhouse out back was just part of life. Yet, that simple home was where she felt the richest, because love flowed even when water didn’t.

Hearing her stories and remembering my own experiences have shaped my understanding of gratitude. I’m thankful today not only for clean running water but for the lessons that taught me to value it. Gratitude often grows in the soil of struggle. It’s in the remembering of what was hard, what was lost, and what was endured that we truly learn to appreciate what’s right in front of us.

So today, I’m thankful for the gift of water. For the privilege of turning a handle and watching it flow. For the memories that remind me not to take it for granted. And for the quiet truth that even in uncertain times, gratitude can still rise, clear and steady, like a stream that keeps on flowing.