It's The Thought That Counts

        Usually at home we'd have a bouquet of flowers sitting on the counter. Mom was never the

gardening or romantic type but she appreciated the gesture. Reasonably the flowers served little to no

real purpose, it was just a gift to have. “It's the thought that counts”, kind of thing. Once while serving as a

missionary in Africa I found myself in the middle of the conversation of two Elders (young men also

serving as missionaries), they were semi-jokingly arguing back and forth on whether “the thought” really

did count. The smaller Elder argued ruthlessly as the devil's advocate, pointing out that on a literal and

temporally level, “the thought” counted for absolutely nothing. Meanwhile the tall Elder helplessly tried

defending the idea but fell short in comparison to the small Elders persistent retorts. Now on a

philosophical level, it was like a utilitarian arguing with Kant; they really weren't getting anywhere.

After a while I decided it was time for me to pop in and interject that- in the scriptures they say we'll be

judged not only for our actions but our thoughts and words as well, so in that sense, I guess the thought

really does count. That was kind of a mic drop on the conversation as, being missionaries, both Elders

unarguably agreed. It wasn’t a hugely significant interaction obviously, but I still think about that a lot now,

whether or not the thought does count.

Personally, there is a good half the time in which people are trying to be thoughtful or helpful and I just feel inconvenienced or irritated. Normally I claim that as a personal problem, but realistically, the entire point of the “thought counting” is that the receiver of said thoughtfulness appreciates the gesture, despite its failure to prove fruitful in any other way. At that rate then, is it really so thoughtful? I get that that’s probably overthinking the concept, but realistically I’ve often felt that the “thought counting” is just a scapegoat for actually unhelpful people. Why this rant? Because now we’ve come back to my exception. 

  The flowers my father buys for my mother do nothing more than sit on the counter, and I’m sure there are other things my mother would probably appreciate more, but my father would probably happily buy her whatever else she wanted as well. The flowers are just the thought of it, the symbol of romantic dedication. 

Honestly I’d never thought that much about it, my father has brought flowers home for my mom since I was a kid, same as he always opens our doors, takes us on lunch dates, checks the oil in our cars, washes the dishes, closes all the cupboards my mom leaves open, takes us to the movies, buys us our favorite treats and sends us supportive texts. That’s all just part of his character. 

One day my friend Lexi was over after school and my dad walked in with a bouquet of flowers for my mom, my mom put the flowers in a vase and gave my dad a kiss. I didn’t even think that much of it but Lexi freaked out and filmed the entire thing on snapchat. She kept talking after that how my parents were #goals, etc. Then I realized that Lexi had never seen her mother receive flowers because her parents were divorced and her dad out of the picture, suddenly I could see how different our home lives were. I can’t imagine not having flowers on the kitchen table. Sure, flowers don’t do much, but it’s the thought that counts and it counts for a whole lot more than maybe I ever thought it could.