Recently our family watched a Masterpiece Theater production of Pollyanna based on the classic novel by Eleanor H. Porter. We all have a passing familiarity with the character and her stereotype: Pollyanna is relentlessly hopeful, chirpy and optimistic, some would say nauseatingly so. She plays a game with everyone she meets that revolves around finding “something to be glad about.” No matter what the circumstance, Pollyanna dons her cheerful thinking cap, ponders the situation, and – voila! – pronounces a reason to be happy.

She initially irritates people with her game, but eventually wins them over and brings joy into many dreary lives. (And to do it justice, I must add that I discovered why this classic, which I’d never read as a child, is a classic. There’s more to Pollyanna than thoughtless optimism. Her cheerful game eventually boomerangs back at her, saving her from giving up on life in despair. But I digress.)

Before watching this production, I was among those who belittled a “Pollyanna” attitude as so much simple-minded fluff. But as a mom I’ve found myself going back to it again and again.

Sometimes the daily grind of motherhood – diapers, cooking, errands, cleaning, baths and bedtime – leaves us drained. We occasionally start to wonder if what we’re doing has significance or lasting import. We wonder if anyone notices our efforts or appreciates the sweat and love that we pour into our work. We know that no one’s paying us for it. Perhaps we wonder what there is to be glad about.

I thought of this the other night as I was rocking my extremely cranky, extraordinarily tired and somewhat wired (I’ll never use that cold medicine again) 2-year-old. There was no choice about what to do with my time that evening – my child needed me and I was at her disposal. We rocked, we walked, we sat and cuddled. I sang, I cooed, I whispered her name. I stroked her hair and as I, too, became exhausted, I asked myself, “What is there to be glad about?”

Surprisingly, a number of things sprang to mind:

I was so glad it was just a cold and nothing more serious.
I was glad for my sweet husband and his much-needed assistance.
I was glad I didn’t have to be anywhere before 11 a.m. the next morning.
I was glad for that extra cup of coffee I’d had earlier.
I was glad that – after multiple miscarriages – we had this miracle child at all.

Reflecting on my list of things to be glad about I was finally struck by one more thing: I was glad for the opportunity to simply be with my daughter. Sometimes it takes a cold and a cough and a long, cranky night to force me to slow down and be with my children, to remind me to put the world on hold and sing to them. It may sound odd to seek “something to be glad about” in illness, but if, like Pollyanna, we can search for a silver lining in all things, surely this is the sunbeam that waits for us in such unavoidable times. We stop, we rest, we merely exist together for a time. Then, when the storm passes, not only are we are glad for the chance to have done so, but we’re doubly glad that life isn’t always like this.

I’ve been carrying my Pollyanna attitude over into all areas of life. From the most distasteful mom-chores (“What is there to be glad about with this nasty diaper? Well, she’s regular.”), to the mundane (“What is there to be glad about while doing these dishes? Well, the meal was tasty, and the pantry’s still full – we’re a well-fed family.”), to the serious (“What is there to be glad about that I’m having this skin-growth removed? Well, thank heaven for early detection and health insurance.”). I’m finding that Pollyanna, indeed, had a point. When we find something to be glad about, we’re not only happier with the daily frustrations that are inevitably part of life, but we make those around us happier, too. And that’s something to be glad about.

Want to see more?

• Reflections on Motherhood: A One-Year Birthday and a Baby on the Way
• Are You New? When Does Mom Have to Relinquish the Title?
• Talk about it!