Since 1997, I’ve had the privilege of writing an editorial column on Thursdays. Most holidays fall on different days of the week from year to year, but not Thanksgiving. It’s always on a Thursday, and, for 20 years, Thursday’s been my home here in the top right-hand corner of the Op/Ed page.

I’ve written Thanksgiving columns about being thankful for the big things – family, faith, friends. I’ve attempted to infuse humor into the column with some well-deserved digs at myself – the year I didn’t know I was supposed to take the giblets out of the turkey before baking the bird. Another year when I basted the ham for two hours only to discover I hadn’t taken the plastic sleeve off the meat.

There’s been Thanksgiving columns about my family, of which I’m so grateful and proud of, and the quirky things I’m thankful for – the automatic transmission in my car and air conditioning.

Sitting here at the computer, all my blessings are going through my head, and I’m humbled by how fortunate I’ve been. The ever-present feeling of poignant gratitude in my life comes down to the simple things I too often take for granted.

That realization became crystal clear through the actions of the congregation at Sutherland Springs Baptist Church and what they did with the inside of their place of worship following the senseless murder of 26 people on Nov. 5.

Instead of closing the building off permanently or tearing it down, they removed all the bullet-ridden pews, quietly removed the blood-soaked carpets and painted the inside of the room white from ceiling to floor.The only Items in the worship room are 26 white chairs and 26 red roses, one for each person killed, including a pink rose for an unborn child that was murdered in his mother’s womb.

The name of each victim is painted in gold on the back of the chair where they’d been sitting when they were gunned down as they worshipped their Lord.

The effect is one of the most powerful and peaceful ways I’ve ever seen to honor those slain in a senseless act of violence and madness.

Looking at the pictures of that white room, it’s impossible not to cry and think about those innocent people who lost their lives in a holy place.

As I dried my tears, my heart was filled with amazement at the amount of forgiveness and healing that one simple room displayed to the world.

One white room.

Twenty-six white chairs.

Twenty-six red roses.

That simplicity said more about forgiveness and how we can convey more emotion with simple acts than with all the gadgets in the world.

Children understand if we love them or not. Simply giving a hug, spending time listening to them talk about their day or watching them play says more about how we feel about them than any material gifts.

At the end of a tiring day, one wordless hug from someone we love means more than all the counseling in the world. And the reason is because that hug, that act of physically embracing another human being in need of comfort, is a simple act from the heart.

So this Thanksgiving, I’m grateful and thankful for the simple.

The simple bond between two best friends who no longer have to impress each other.

The simple act of opening the door for someone else or letting another driver merge in front of you during rush hour traffic.

The simple act of telling the people in your life how much they are loved and appreciated, and that only takes two words – thank you.

This Thanksgiving, I hope your life, like mine, is filled with the simple.

This column was originally published in The Fort Bend Herald.