My first grader celebrated a Thanksgiving Feast at her school this week and, as a childhood rite of passage, she dressed up as a pilgrim. Her class and the "Native American" kindergartners played primitive games together, read stories, and shared a semi-authentic first Thanksgiving meal (i.e. mashed potatoes weren't on the menu as potatoes hadn't been cultivated yet). It was a wonderful morning.
This Thanksgiving, I hope that we can all collectively count our blessings and acknowledge that today is about much more than the food on our plates. We celebrate because of the brave souls that sought religious freedom nearly four hundred years ago, enduring a tyrant king and an unforgiving ocean, fighting disease and starvation, and accepting help from those so unlike themselves.
Today, I'm thankful for the heat in my home (it is freezing outside!), my man upstairs brining the bird, the family arriving later this afternoon and tomorrow, and the church that I will freely and openly attend this Sunday and any other time I want. And I am thankful for my little pilgrim helper, who decorated much of our house yesterday all on her own. Happy Thanksgiving!
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