In this season of giving thanks, we might note that a sense of gratitude—wonderful as it is—does not always come naturally to human beings. Consider, for example, the Biblical Israelites.  In Exodus (Ch. 16:2-3), God frees them after 400 years of bondage and yet only weeks later in the desert, what do they do?  Complain about the food and want to return to Egypt.  That human beings by nature have a hard time remembering to be grateful may be why the rabbis included a prayer of thanksgiving—to be repeated three times daily—in the Modim section of the Amidah, the central prayer of Jewish tradition.  Other faiths have similar rituals designed to remind us that the proper response to life’s blessings is gratitude.

Research shows that cultivating a sense of gratitude can help us be happier and cope better in times of stress and anxiety.  What’s more, gratitude’s physical and emotional benefits are enhanced when our gratitude is focused and specific.  In a Harvard study released just this past summer, researchers monitoring nearly 50,000 women found that those who could report having a “long list” of things to be grateful for had a lower rate of mortality—they actually lived longer.

An odd thing about gratitude, though, is that while it’s easy to express gratitude broadly, it can often be difficult to recall and put into words specific things for which we’re grateful.  I see this at my Thanksgiving table each year:  invited to say what they’re grateful for, guests will say “I’m grateful for my health” or “I’m grateful for my family,” but few can come up with anything more specific than that.   

But being more specific at Thanksgiving about what we’re grateful for—besides the possible health benefits--would also foster more closeness among those gathered at the table. And isn’t that part of the purpose of celebrating together?  In this post-election season, it may be more important than ever.

That’s why I’m looking forward to trying a new approach this year.

Since my wife retired, we’ve been traveling more and it seems that almost anywhere we go—national park, museum, even the local zoo—we’re required to “exit through the gift shop.”  At first, this put me off but then it dawned on me that a gift shop can be a metaphor for all the things in life we’re grateful for, and that the tchotchkes sold there—from snow globes to tote bags—can symbolize the people, places, and experiences for which we’re most grateful.

In my mind, I create an imaginary “gift shop of gratitude” where all the different items sold there prompt me to recall the many specific things in life that I most cherish.

Take, for example, a deck of playing cards.  In regular gift shops, the backs of cards typically have pictures of local landmarks or famous paintings.  But in my imaginary gift shop, the backs of cards have images of the people I’m most grateful to have had in my life: two cards for my parents, one for my wife, one each for my brother and late sister, three for my kids, six for the grandkids, and half a dozen for close friends.

Or consider bobbleheads.  Instead of figures of entertainers, popes, or presidents, in my gift shop these honor people who helped me along the way in life:  my best teacher, and an editor who mentored me when I first began writing.

How about those little souvenir spoons?  In my gift shop, these help me recall memorable meals shared with special people:  the first time my future wife and I met for dinner; the last Thanksgiving with my parents; the first time I spoon-fed our first child solid food—apple sauce, as I recall.

Here are some other items I’ll draw analogies with:  refrigerator magnets to help recall memorable travels; key chains to recall people who opened important doors of opportunity; snow globes to bring to mind natural wonders I’m grateful to have seen, like a sunrise over the Atlantic and the Grand Canyon.    

So, at my home this Thanksgiving, when we go around the table to say what we’re grateful for, I’ll ask each guest to share specific memories prompted by one of these gift shop items:  “Uncle Bob, if you were to make a deck of cards showing the people you’re most grateful for in your life, whose pictures would be on those cards?”  “Cousin Barb, thinking of the teachers and mentors who have helped you along the way, who would you honor with bobbleheads?”

This should get us beyond generalities and encourage each of us to say, in effect, “This is who I am and what I cherish.”

Every family gathering is an opportunity to learn something new about the people we love. Don’t miss the chance to open up to them–for both the physical and emotional benefits of nurturing a sense of gratitude and the chance to grow closer to each other. 

Why not try it this year at your Thanksgiving table?

Peter Lovenheim is a journalist and author who lives in Chevy Chase, Maryland.  His book, Gift Shop of Gratitude, will be published Nov. 12.