Thursday, November 24, 2016
Thanksgiving
When I was little, I loved everything about Thanksgiving, but mostly I loved the way it smelled. There were eggs in the morning, and then about mid-day the amazing scent of a turkey in the oven, and fresh bread. I still love all of that, and long for it.
Now, though, I mostly love the thing that the holiday is about. I know very well that I am a lucky man, in so many ways. I have a lot to be thankful for, and it is good to have a day to dwell on that. It took a while, but as I have had the chance to observe other lives I have become more aware of the challenges I have been spared along the way.
A long time ago, I was walking along the side of a road. I was walking because my car had broken down, and I was far from anything in an area of farms and forests. Cell phones were not a thing everyone had in their pocket back then. There was no sidewalk, so I walked on the edge of the shoulder of the road. It was kind of mesmerizing, and I felt real joy in it. The sun was out, low, and the fields were dusted with snow. Coming past a house, I smelled a turkey roasting; it was November, but not Thanksgiving. That smell filled me up, a gift.
Soon after that, a car came by. A woman leaned out and offered to give me a ride into the town where I was going. I accepted, and sat down in that small warm space and she took me to where I needed to go. My car was towed, and then it was fixed. I went on my way. Life was, and is, good.
Now, though, I mostly love the thing that the holiday is about. I know very well that I am a lucky man, in so many ways. I have a lot to be thankful for, and it is good to have a day to dwell on that. It took a while, but as I have had the chance to observe other lives I have become more aware of the challenges I have been spared along the way.
A long time ago, I was walking along the side of a road. I was walking because my car had broken down, and I was far from anything in an area of farms and forests. Cell phones were not a thing everyone had in their pocket back then. There was no sidewalk, so I walked on the edge of the shoulder of the road. It was kind of mesmerizing, and I felt real joy in it. The sun was out, low, and the fields were dusted with snow. Coming past a house, I smelled a turkey roasting; it was November, but not Thanksgiving. That smell filled me up, a gift.
Soon after that, a car came by. A woman leaned out and offered to give me a ride into the town where I was going. I accepted, and sat down in that small warm space and she took me to where I needed to go. My car was towed, and then it was fixed. I went on my way. Life was, and is, good.
