Teach Your Children How to Be Grateful

Gratitude is a lot like a seed. You can hold it in your hand, admire its potential, and even carry it around with you - but until you plant it and tend to it, it doesn’t really grow. And if there’s one thing I’ve learned over the years, it’s this: if we want to grow grateful hearts in our children, we have to do more than tell them to say “thank you.” We have to show them what it means to live a thankful life. Listen in and find ways to help you cultivate gratitude in your child – and how it begins with you. 

Transcript

Episode 182 - Teach Your Children How to Be Grateful

Gratitude is a lot like a seed. You can hold it in your hand, admire its potential, and even carry it around with you - but until you plant it and tend to it, it doesn’t really grow. And if there’s one thing I’ve learned over the years, it’s this: if we want to grow grateful hearts in our children, we have to do more than tell them to say, “thank you.” We have to show them what it means to live a thankful life.

Raising grateful children in today’s world takes intention. Everywhere they turn, they’re being told they need more - more toys, more stuff, more entertainment, more of everything. Gratitude, by contrast, teaches them to pause, to appreciate what’s already in their hands, and to find contentment in the simple, the ordinary, and even the challenging.

Now, I don’t claim to have all the answers or be a child-rearing expert, but I’ve spent enough time around kids—my own and others’—to know this: they watch us far more closely than they listen to us. If we want to teach them how to be grateful, we start by being grateful ourselves, and doing it out loud, where they can see and hear.

It’s not about giving a lecture. If you want your kids to tune you out, a lecture is a sure-fire way to do it. Instead, it’s about living the kind of life where gratitude is baked into your day, like the scent of bread rising in the kitchen—it fills the house in a quiet, comforting way, and even if you don’t call attention to it, everyone knows it’s there.

One of the most powerful ways to teach gratitude is through storytelling. Children are wired to learn through stories—real ones, made-up ones, ones from the Bible or your own childhood. Share stories about people who had very little but gave thanks anyway. Tell them about the times you made do, the things you prayed for, the blessings that came in unexpected ways. And don’t forget to tell the stories of when you were told ‘no’, and not only survived, but later also discovered it turned out to be a blessing.

Sometimes, I think children believe blessings are supposed to come all wrapped up with a bow. But when we share stories of answered prayers that took time, of needs met through the kindness of others, or even of seasons where we learned to appreciate what we had, they start to understand that gratitude isn’t tied to getting what you want, but recognizing what you already have.

And don’t be afraid to include your children in the family’s journey through hard times. Age-appropriate honesty can actually be a powerful teacher. If money’s tight, if a plan didn’t work out, if you’re walking through something difficult - share how you’re still finding things to be thankful for. Let them hear you say, “This is a challenge, but God has always been faithful.” That sticks with them longer than a hundred reminders to say thank you for their sandwich.

Another beautiful thing about simple living is that it naturally lends itself to teaching gratitude. When your children are part of growing their food, hanging the laundry, or helping prepare a meal, they begin to see the work that goes into everyday blessings. Are they going to enjoy it? We hope so, but probably not. But still, it becomes harder to take things for granted when you’ve seen the effort behind them.

If they’ve helped plant seeds, they understand the patience and care it takes to enjoy fresh tomatoes. If they’ve helped sweep the porch or gather eggs, they know those comforts don’t magically appear - they’re part of something bigger, something meaningful. Gratitude grows in those quiet moments of shared work.

Chores, by the way, aren’t just about teaching responsibility - they’re also about teaching gratitude. When kids help around the house, they gain a sense of contribution, of ownership, of noticing what goes into the life they live. And while they might not always do it with a cheerful heart, it’s a foundation that lasts.

One of the practices I love most is having children keep a “thankful list.” It doesn’t have to be fancy—a notebook, a sheet of paper on the fridge, or even a conversation at bedtime. Just ask, “What’s something you’re thankful for today?” The answers might be silly or surprising, but they’re always telling.

You’ll hear “mac and cheese” and “my dog” and “recess,” but over time, you’ll start to hear “the way Grandma laughed today” or “that I didn’t fall in front of everyone at school.” And suddenly, you realize they’re noticing life. They’re paying attention. That’s when you know gratitude is taking root.

Of course, faith is the deepest well of gratitude we can draw from. When we teach our children to see God’s hand in the everyday—to thank Him for sunshine and rain, for answered prayers and even the unanswered ones—we’re teaching them that gratitude isn’t just about being polite. It’s about trust. It’s about humility. It’s about recognizing that every good gift comes from above.

Mealtime prayers are a good place to start. Not the rushed or mumbled kind, but a real pause. A breath. A moment to reflect. Ask them what they want to thank God for that day. Let their prayers be messy or sweet or unexpected. Let them hear your thanks too—not just for the food, but for the people around the table, the lessons learned, even the hard stuff you’re still walking through.

Another way to plant gratitude deep is by letting your children see gratitude in action. Let them tag along when you take a casserole to a neighbor. Involve them in writing a thank-you note. Let them help wrap a small gift for the mail carrier. These aren’t just good manners -they’re living lessons in community, in appreciation, in kindness that reaches outward.

You can also build family traditions around gratitude. Maybe you have a gratitude jar on the kitchen table where everyone adds little notes throughout the month, then reads them aloud. Maybe you take turns sharing “the best thing about today” over supper. These don’t have to be big productions. Keep them simple but keep them consistent. Those routines become rhythm. And those rhythms shape hearts.

Now, I do want to say this: gratitude doesn’t mean children never struggle with disappointment or selfishness. That’s part of growing up. Gratitude doesn’t erase those moments - but it gives us a compass to return to. It reminds them that even when they don’t get what they want, there’s still beauty in what they have. That they’re still deeply loved. That joy isn’t found in more stuff, but in a deeper awareness of blessings.

There will be times when your child pouts or complains or wants more than what’s in front of them. Don’t panic. That’s a teaching moment, not a failure. Instead of scolding, ask questions: “What are you thankful for right now?” “Can you think of someone who might not have what we have?” Not to shame them, but to gently shift their perspective.

And remember, children aren’t blank slates waiting to be filled - they’re soil waiting to be cultivated. Some days will feel like you’re planting gratitude in rocky ground, and other days, you’ll see it bloom when and where you least expect it.

One day, they’ll be the ones saying thank you without prompting, offering help without being asked, praying for someone else without being told to, or coming to you for help when they spot a need in their community. And when that happens—when you catch that glimpse—you’ll realize the seeds took root after all.

Teaching children to be grateful isn’t about perfect parenting or having all the answers. It’s about showing up, again and again, with love, with honesty, with faith, and with a heart that chooses to give thanks even when it would be easier not to.

It’s about modeling what it looks like to praise God in the ordinary. To notice the overlooked. To say thank you in both words and actions. And to trust that, even when they don’t seem to be paying attention, something inside them is watching and learning.

I want to offer you a word of encouragement: don’t grow weary in doing this good work. You may not see the fruit today or tomorrow, but keep planting. Keep watering. Keep modeling a grateful life, one moment at a time.

Because when we raise children who know how to give thanks—not just with their words, but with their lives—we’re giving the world something it desperately needs: hearts that see, that appreciate, that share, and that shine with you.