Thanksgiving

No turkey, no horn of plenty -- all you get is this grateful little squirrel. It would be grateful, if squirrels were able to feel gratitude. I suspect it's something more like delight, or relief, or full-belly pleasure.

Here we are again, at this most American of holidays; a combination of optimism, gratitude, abundance, and hospitality. This harvest celebration, though, like most of our holidays, has changed over the years -- even in my lifetime. I remember the large extended family celebrations of my childhood, complete with the children's table. We all lived close together, and large family gatherings were not restricted to holidays -- though the good china was.

One year in college, my household had a gathering for those who weren't 'going home'. It was potluck, and it went all day. There was glorious food, great music, and a revolving crowd of good company. Dishes and flatware were washed in shifts. People laughed and danced and ate and indulged in the kind of intense, serious conversation college incites.

Another year, when I worked at a program for mentally ill adults, the staff decided to prepare and serve Thanksgiving dinner to our clients. This was entirely volunteer, and I think nearly all of us participated. It was great. A different kind of working together; a different way of being with our clients.

Both of those were closer to the original than the usual family Thanksgivings of today, with all the complex, comedic, and painful undercurrents of contemporary family life; or, for some, the power of the day to throw one's solitude into sharp relief.

The first Thanksgiving was not about family, it was about community -- and the larger community at that. Everyone would have contributed; everyone would have shared.

This is the way the feast was described in a first-hand account presumably by a leader of the colony, Edward Winslow, as it appears in Mourt's Relation:

"Our harvest being gotten in, our governor sent four men on fowling, that so we might after a special manner rejoice together after we had gathered the fruit of our labors. They four in one day killed as much fowl as, with a little help beside, served the company almost a week. At which time, amongst other recreations, we exercised our arms, Many of the Indians coming amongst us, and among the rest their greatest King Massasoit, with some ninety men, whom for three days we entertained and feasted, and they went out and killed five deer, which they brought to the plantation and bestowed on our governor, and upon the captain and others. And although it be not always so plentiful as it was this time with us, yet by the goodness of God, we are so far from want that we often wish you partakers of our plenty."

It seems to me also an American impulse to look away from want, and toward prosperity -- even if want is close, and prosperity far. Sadly, this evolves, in our time, into the shopping impulse, wherein we seem to be always in want, and always in pursuit of prosperity -- even if prosperity is close, and want, distant.

This year I am told that shopping has slipped into this day, itself; with some stores open all day, and many opening in the evening. I see on television people interviewed waiting in line at WalMart on Thanksgiving morning, seeking something to feel thankful for.

I know that I feel better, calmer, more serene, when I can maintain a state of gratitude; when I can welcome the kingfisher on the river in the morning with thanks for its beauty, its rippling voice. Knowing this is not always sufficient to take me there, however. Often, I need reminders.

At High Context Consulting, I am told that Citizen of the Month has suggested that bloggers celebrate Thanksgiving by thanking our first commenter. I was surprised to discover that my first commenter was onionboy, who told me:

A lovely layout.

I am busy getting some submissions off today but I have bookmarked your site and will be back to spend some time here as I think it will be worthwhile.

thrive!,
O

p.s.
I should add that I rather like "sonnet in search of a title" as the title :)

This comment, from someone I did not know; from someone whose website pleased me very much when I went to visit -- it was such a gift for a new and shaky blogger. So, O, may you, too, thrive; and may your generosity be repaid many times. I thank you.