It is good that there is a day in our lives when we say thank you. It’d be grand if we did this more frequently. And as so many of us say, there’s family, there are friends, there’s food (and some would add there’s football) what’s not to like about this holiday? I’m really looking forward to time with my nephew and his wife, visits to friends and a whole weekend that continues the celebration. Big bonus: I get to spend much of the weekend with my husband, which is not what we always get. I’m a happy and a lucky woman. While there are faces I miss at the table, I have family and friends I love and who love me in return. I have a job I have waited and prepared a lifetime to do, and I have you and a place to say what I think and feel and believe. Huge thanksgiving. Joy that races between quiet and explosive!
However, some people don’t have those luxuries. Even if they have food, they may not have family. Some are missing both comfort and sustenance. Somehow this day feels like another reminder of their loneliness. When we can, we should help here.
This year, I think it’s incumbent upon us to remember that the gratitude that is tied up in so many of our minds with a thankfulness for this country must be balanced by the realization how many people are excluded from the American Dream. And more than excluded, threatened. There’s been a lot of writing lately about how this current uproar in Ferguson is less about Blacks’ demanding visibility than it is about white outrage (again with the outrage) that society is changing and, in fact, there must be, even will be, parity. Black lives do matter. And so our gratitude must be tempered with awareness. And our gratitude must be the fuel for making a difference.
Our hearts must be both sorrowful and grateful. We’re plenty complex enough to hold that tension. Today let us feast. Tomorrow let us eat leftovers and consider how we might help. Celebration and action, longtime friends of Peace.