Thanksgiving

This morning, I am planning a trip to a store in a small town nearby to do the first of my Christmas shopping for an early holiday party. It’s still before Thanksgiving – unnecessarily early even for this particular party – but I like to avoid the crowds.

Thanksgiving is this week. I mentioned to a friend that I like to listen to recordings of Aaron Copland music at this time of year because it evokes particularly “American” feelings and Thanksgiving is an American holiday. She questioned that – saying that Thanksgiving is celebrated in Canada, as well.

We’ve been taught that Thanksgiving originated when the Pilgrims fleeing to the “New World” to escape religious persecution celebrated their first harvest by having a meal with the Native Americans who helped them learn to farm in their new environment. In reality, what they were thankful for was not starving to death.

Despite the original Thanksgiving celebration being rooted in a struggle to survive the threat of starvation - national declarations of days of Thanksgiving were tied to war. Washington giving thanks for defeating the British in 1777, Lincoln declaring a day of Thanksgiving after a series of Union victories – and then yearly declarations of Thanksgiving Day after that until it was given an annual set date during World War II by Franklin Roosevelt.

During the start of the cold season here in New England and throughout the world, we have several holidays set aside to give thanks. Our Thanksgiving originated in giving thanks for survival of threats from nature; it continued when we survived threats to freedom. Later in the season we celebrate the return of the light - our survival through the darkest days of the year and the lengthening days bringing new hope. Or we celebrate light persisting against a threat, or we celebrate peace and forgiveness.

We show our gratitude for these things in simple ways, giving gifts to friends and decorating our homes with evergreen trees and boughs, symbolizing the persistence of life through the killing frosts and by doing acts of kindness for people less fortunate than we are.

The tradition of giving to the poor during the cold months originally came out of the necessity to share resources for survival. It turned into a time for feasts – like the Roman Saturnalia – when food and fuel became more reliable.

Many of us who have shelter, food, fuel – reliable comfort – give thanks for our good fortune by acknowledging those who are struggling. Our natural instinct to stockpile against the cold when we have enough turns to charitable acts. The better nature of humanity comes to light – shining through the pervasive greed and ignorance we see so much of throughout the year.

We still give thanks for not starving, for having freedom, for not suffering in other ways. The purpose of the celebration isn’t explicit these days. We do these repeated acts - gathering for meals, giving gifts to our friends, celebrating the continuation of life for another year, and sharing our bounty - all in unspoken acknowledgement of our fragility- “there but for the grace of God go I”.

After my conversation with my friend, I wondered why I associate Copland with Thanksgiving. I knew that “Appalachian Spring” is based on the Shaker hymn “Simple Gifts” – a clear reference to gratitude, but I didn’t know that his “Fanfare for the Common Man” which was inspired by a speech by Vice President Henry Wallace during WWII and was commissioned to honor the sacrifices of the American people during the war.

When I get home, I’ll listen to a Copeland recording and remember that our celebrations, our charity, our prayer - and our survival in this harsh world – are done together. Year after year we survive the dying of the light by working together and helping our friends, neighbors, and strangers who need a hand.

This year, and every year, let’s remember that working together is why we’re still here. Let’s raise a cup with friends and family, do what we can to make sure others have what they need, and remember that the light is returning. We made it through the dark together.