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A few months back, I was strolling along the Detroit River when I saw a man sitting on a bench pull a sandwich from a brown paper bag. It was, as far as sandwiches go, nondescript— seemingly just two pieces of white bread, probably welded together with peanut butter and jelly, pimento cheese, or a couple of slices of pale turkey with some mustard. Then, I watched the man bow his head over this unremarkable lunch. It was a brief pause, barely enough time to formally address a higher power, let alone say anything of note. But whatever his prayer, I immediately coveted this gentleman’s spirit of thankfulness. We often preach the importance of gratitude to mental healt

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