I started the Crock Pot on high, making a mental note to turn it to low before leaving for church.

Then I smiled, and remembered something else (or rather, someone else) to be thankful for.

I smiled because I remembered a Sunday morning approximately fifteen years ago. Fifteen, because I figure I must have been about ten, and my younger sister about five.

My mom was similarly preparing a roast for Sunday dinner, and she asked us to remind her to turn it to low before we left for church.

I’m not sure who invented the song. Maybe it was me. But my sister took it and ran with it. Or rather, sang it.

over.

and over.

and over again.

“Turn the Crock Pot to low!

Turn the Crock Pot to low-ow-ow-ow!

For if you don’t, your food will burn.

Turn the Crock Pot to low.”

After a half-dozen times through the song, I wanted some peace, so I asked the dear sister to stop singing. She didn’t.

I probably got nasty about it pretty quickly (I’m impatient like that). But my threats and attempted bodily harm were to no avail. The singing continued.

So I appealed to the higher power. Surely my Mom was getting tired of the song. I’ll never forget her answer, which is now a family classic.

“At least she’s happy!”

My sister smirked. And sang on. I seethed.

But this morning, as I started the roast, the song came back to me. And I was thankful, not only for the food, but for my sister. We’re much better friends now than we were back then! I’m thankful that God has put her (and my other two sisters, and parents) in my life.

And I have to admit, it was a catchy song.