Once you appreciate one of your blessings, one of your senses

Hear the wisdom of Maya Angelou, poet of the soul and guardian of human dignity, who proclaimed: “Once you appreciate one of your blessings, one of your senses, your sense of hearing, then you begin to respect the sense of seeing and touching and tasting, you learn to respect all the senses.” In this teaching lies a gentle but profound call: to awaken to the miracles of the body, to the gifts we so often take for granted, and to live with gratitude for the simple yet divine faculties that connect us to the world.

The meaning is radiant in its simplicity. To hear the laughter of a child, the song of a bird, the rhythm of rain upon a roof—these are not small things, but treasures. Once the heart learns to appreciate such a gift, it begins to see with new eyes. Suddenly, the taste of bread, the feel of a hand, the colors of the sky are no longer ordinary but extraordinary. Angelou reminds us that gratitude begins with one blessing, but it does not end there—it multiplies, it expands, it deepens, until we learn to honor the fullness of being alive.

History bears witness to those who taught this same truth. Think of Helen Keller, who was both blind and deaf, yet who discovered through touch the vast beauty of life. She came to know the world through her teacher Anne Sullivan’s patient hands, and in doing so, she revealed to all of humanity that the senses we take for granted are holy gateways. Keller’s life embodies Angelou’s insight: that once we respect one channel of perception, we begin to revere all, and even the smallest sensation becomes a song of the divine.

Angelou’s words also strike at the heart of modern life. Too often we are dulled by excess, distracted by noise, blind to wonder. We gulp our food without savoring, we look without truly seeing, we hear without listening. In such neglect, we lose reverence for the very faculties that sustain our joy. But the poet calls us back: she asks us to pause, to listen, to taste, to feel, to respect the senses as sacred gifts. For in doing so, we awaken again to the miracle of being.

There is also a deeper lesson: when we learn to respect our senses, we learn also to respect one another. To honor sight is to honor the artist who paints; to honor hearing is to honor the musician who sings; to honor taste is to honor the farmer and the cook. Respect for the senses is respect for the human community, for every act of creation and labor that awakens them. In this way, Angelou’s wisdom is not only personal but communal—it ties the miracle of the body to the miracle of human connection.

The lesson, child of tomorrow, is this: practice gratitude for the simple blessings of the senses. Do not wait until they are dimmed or lost to realize their worth. Pause to savor the sound of a friend’s voice, the sight of dawn, the warmth of an embrace, the sweetness of fruit, the fragrance of the earth after rain. Each is a reminder that life is abundant, that joy is present, and that respect is not only for the mighty but for the ordinary miracles we touch every day.

To live by this wisdom, cultivate habits of awareness. Begin each day by noticing one sense—the sound that greets you, the sight before your eyes, the touch of air upon your skin. Speak gratitude for it. Then let that gratitude expand to the others, until respect fills your life like a river overflowing its banks. In doing so, you will not only live more fully but also inspire others to cherish what is sacred in their own lives.

Thus, the words of Maya Angelou endure: “Once you appreciate one of your blessings, you learn to respect all the senses.” They remind us that reverence begins in the small, that gratitude for one gift opens the heart to all gifts, and that to respect the senses is to respect life itself. May her wisdom guide you always to see, to hear, to taste, to touch, and to live with awe and thanksgiving.