I am thankful I was born in America, although if I gain any more

Elayne Boosler, in her sharp and playful way, once said: “I am thankful I was born in America, although if I gain any more weight the burqa thing may start to seem like a good idea to me. See? Another plus about America, you can always find some food.” At first hearing, the words draw laughter, for they are clothed in humor and jest. Yet beneath the laughter rests a deep reflection on gratitude, abundance, and the contradictions of privilege. With wit as her chisel, Boosler carves a truth: that to live in a land of plenty is both a blessing and a challenge, a source of freedom and temptation alike.

The origin of these words lies in the American condition, where food and choice are abundant in ways the ancients could scarcely have imagined. To be thankful for being born in America, as Boosler expresses, is to acknowledge the security of a nation where survival does not hinge daily upon scarcity. Yet she reminds us, through humor about her own weight, that abundance itself carries burdens—that too much of anything, even food, can weigh down body and spirit. Her jest about the burqa is not meant as reverence for the garment, but as a comic imagining of how one might hide what abundance creates.

The ancients often spoke of moderation as the greatest virtue in the face of abundance. The philosopher Epicurus warned that pleasure, untempered, becomes pain. The Romans, surrounded by wealth from their conquests, indulged in banquets so excessive that they became symbols of decadence. Boosler’s humor, though wrapped in modern wit, reflects the same wisdom: abundance is a gift to be grateful for, but it can also tempt us into excess. The laughter her words inspire carries within it the reminder that gratitude should walk hand in hand with moderation.

History offers us parallels. Consider the story of King Croesus of Lydia, famed for his wealth. He believed his riches made him the happiest of men, but the sage Solon warned him that fortune was fragile, and that true happiness came not from plenty but from balance and virtue. Croesus learned this lesson only in the flames of downfall. Boosler’s lighthearted reflection contains a similar caution: to be born into abundance, like America’s never-ending food, is indeed a blessing, but one must handle it with wisdom lest it become a curse.

Her statement also reveals another truth: that humor can open the door to gratitude. By poking fun at her own struggles, Boosler highlights the reality that many in the world do not even have the luxury to joke about too much food. In this way, her humor carries an undercurrent of humility. She is thankful for what she has, while acknowledging with a laugh that abundance carries its own strange burdens. In gratitude, she lightens the heaviness of privilege by turning it into shared laughter.

The lesson for us is clear: to be born into abundance is a blessing, but it demands gratitude, moderation, and awareness. Do not mock the gift of plenty by consuming thoughtlessly. Instead, give thanks for what you have, use it wisely, and remember those who live without such security. Gratitude transforms abundance from indulgence into blessing, while thoughtlessness turns blessing into decay.

Practical action follows easily. Give thanks each day for the food and resources you enjoy. Share your abundance with others, for generosity prevents wealth from becoming weight upon the soul. Practice moderation, so that what sustains you does not enslave you. And, like Boosler, do not be afraid to laugh at yourself, for humor softens pride and opens the heart to humility.

Thus, Elayne Boosler’s words, though wrapped in jest, endure as a teaching: to be thankful for abundance, mindful of excess, and wise in how we live with plenty. For gratitude without moderation is incomplete, but when the two walk together, they become a path not only to joy, but to balance, health, and peace.