We often hear that Thanksgiving is a uniquely American holiday, inspired by the Pilgrims and formally enacted by Abraham Lincoln, but I have never thought of it in national terms. Harvest festivals have been celebrated for centuries, probably millennia. This is the tradition that I think of when the turkey is served, a celebration of gratitude that binds us not only to the blessings of the earth but to the generations that precede us, back into the mists of time. It is not just the turkey that we should be thankful for but, more importantly, it is also all those generations. They made us possible, allowing humanity with all its wonders and imperfections, to endure.
Our blessings today are so plentiful that we take many for granted, never considering that each may be traced to those who came before. Next time you encounter someone who thinks their life is crumbling because a new app isn’t working on their phone or their store stopped carrying their favorite brie, suggest they weigh their blessings on the human timeline. It wasn’t so very long ago that our forebears gave thanks for having enough firewood to keep their children from freezing or enough grain and roots set aside to avoid starvation in the coming winter. For long centuries the harvest celebrations taking place at bonfires, rough-hewn tables, or stone slabs were visceral affirmations of survival and the indefatigable human spirit. This Thanksgiving let the past resonate. Consider our connections not only to Honest Abe and the Plymouth settlers but also to the heroes, saints and just plain survivors who brought us to one more milepost in this wonder-filled human journey.
~ Eliot Pattison
