Amanda started the idea. “Mom,” she texted, “Do you have plans for Saturday? I think we should do Thanksgiving. I’ll do the turkey and a pumpkin cheesecake.”
“I like that,” I responded. With our son Anthony home from BC and Mom G and Great-Uncle Neil visiting from Ontario, it seemed fitting to celebrate together, even if two weeks early. But that meant Thanksgiving dinner would have to happen six days hence.
Two days later, while shopping for feast-type food, I overheard a woman in the next aisle talking to the clerk.
“This is it,” she said, waving her hand over her loaded cart. “Thanksgiving, Christmas…. We’re hitting all the major holidays at once.” Well, why not, I thought. We could do that too. My birthday falls the day before, and the rest of the family likely won’t return for Christmas.
And so, on the proposed Saturday, thirteen of us gathered at Hope House to celebrate it all. “Family….Happy Everything!” I wrote on our knobby old door in the hallway. “Birthday, Thanksgiving, Christmas….”
The weather outside said summer, but the paper plates had a birthday theme. Harvest napkins and gourds on the table reminded of Thanksgiving. Paper printed with snowmen and decorated trees wrapped the gifts we exchanged after dinner, and suddenly we’d added a taste of Christmas.
We ate outside on the deck, where mosquitoes and flies joined us. I tried to video our family grace song, but the camera failed. Amanda completely forgot she’d also promised her traditional spiced cranberries. My turkey stuffing came from a box, and I’d had no time to fix the usual (fussy) salads and extra desserts. But we had more food than we deserved, and all the good company we needed. No one complained.
During the gift exchange, (limit of $3) the grandbeans happily traded toys specially bought for them for the candy gifts the adults secretly wanted. Son-in-law Kendall ended up with a set of rainbow pens; Anthony, with a chalkboard mug. The Preacher traded up. He got twin bottles of ketchup and mustard, then hid them so no one would trade with him.
No one complained about their gifts, either.
God has been good to us, I thought, looking around. Could life get sweeter than the moments we share with loving (if loud) family?
Too many in the world have nothing. What others have has been taken from them. Countless more live in constant terror. The media keeps us well aware of all those things. We don’t celebrate because we have more than anyone else; we celebrate because every day is a gift, and every beloved a fragile presence not guaranteed tomorrow. We celebrate because our blessings mean we get to share.
We thank Father God, because from his hand those things come. And if it were all gone tomorrow, we pray for the grace to remain thankful for what has been and what remains: our faithful God, Christ beside, and the guiding, comforting presence of the Holy Spirit.
Happy Thanksgiving, friends.
