I try not to forget, not even for one day, how very lucky I am. But I love that we set aside a day for gratitude. And family and friends. And shameful abundance. And warmth. And lovingly preparing traditional delicious foods for one another. I love that it is a day about sharing, not about acquiring. It is a reminder that we are here for each other.
The poem below is my favorite Thanksgiving blessing, though I don’t believe it was written with that in mind. Though it is certainly more religious than I am (especially the last stanza), I think the sentiment is just perfect.
Lord, behold our family assembled here.
We thank Thee for this place
in which we dwell;
for the love that unites us;
for the peace accorded us this day;
for the hope with which we expect the morrow;
for the health, the work, the food,
and the bright skies that
make our lives delightful;
for our friends in all parts of the earth.
Let peace abound in our small company.
Purge out of every heart the lurking grudge.
Give us grace and strength to forbear
and to preserve. Offenders ourselves, give us the
grace to accept and to forgive offenders.
Forgetful ourselves, helps us to bear
forgetfulness of others.
Give us courage and gaiety
and the quiet mind.
Spare to us our friends,
soften to us our enemies.
Bless us, if it may be,
in all our innocent endeavors.
If it may not, give us the strength
to encounter that which is to come,
that we may be brave in peril,
constant in tribulation, temperate in wrath
and in all changes of fortune,
and down to the gates of death, loyal and
loving one to another.
As the clay to the potter,
as the windmill to the wind,
as children of their sire,
we beseech of Thee this help
and mercy for Christ’s sake.
(by Robert Louis Stevenson)