Postscript Thanksgiving prayer

The mythology of Thanksgiving may be suspect, but the feeling of gratitude is undeniable. A nostalgic and heartwarming story.

Thanksgiving has always been a holiday that is both perplexing and bustling to me. The origins of the holiday are dubious, and the traditions that have developed over the years can be crass at times. I remember the construction paper American Indian costumes and the happy story I learned as a child about the first Thanksgiving, and it makes me cringe. Moreover, the idea of people missing their holiday meal to work retail jobs, where customers trample each other at the entrance to buy things, is something I simply cannot comprehend. I have never been in such a hurry to buy anything in my life.

Despite these reservations, I cannot help but like Thanksgiving because it is a day dedicated to feeling thankful. My early Thanksgivings were spent at my mother's farmhouse, and I remember the moment that made it Thanksgiving. It was in the stillness, after all the food had been piled onto the big dining room table, and everyone had fallen quiet. Then we would sing the blessing, and it was a beautiful moment. It was a simple prayer, asking for God's presence to be with us and everywhere else it was welcomed, and for all the abundance to be blessed.

After the prayer, we would eat. There were more people than chairs, and the table would be filled with pies and weak coffee. It was a simple, yet joyous occasion, and even though I am far from my family and the farmhouse, I am going to sing today. Thanksgiving is a time to feel grateful, and despite its perplexing origins and bustling traditions, I cannot help but appreciate the sentiment behind the holiday.

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