I am sitting here this morning, Thanksgiving morning, and musing on the holiday expectations that we all bring to these times. The picture of the Norman Rockwell family, gathered around the laden table, faces smiling in anticipation of the feast to come, is engrained in our collective psyche. Magazines over the last month have been filled with recipes for “The Most Sumptuous, Easiest Thanksgiving Feast Ever.” Methods for creating the perfect table setting, the perfect appetizer, the perfect pumpkin pie, abound.
I am one of the fortunate ones in that I do have a loving family and a family table to prepare. Although I am not hosting the feast this year, I will be part of one. And yet, I know all too well that these holidays often bring not joy, but turmoil and sadness to many.
So today, I am writing for those whose holidays are not filled with joy, whose family tables are filled with strife or silence or fear, who wait for the explosion, or the blows, or the criticism. And for those who have no table, and who will go hungry, not only on this day, but on many others. And for those who have no home, no place of warmth, no place to lay a weary head. I am writing for the children who will be passed back and forth by acrimonious and angry parents, divorced, unconsciously still taking out their wars on their hapless children. I am writing for the lonely ones, who will spend this day taking care of themselves the only way they know how…maybe by drinking too much, or eating too much.
I don’t have good answers for you. These holidays are hard, and that is the truth. In a culture filled with so much abundance, to be both physically and emotionally without resources is a hard blow to take.
So, rather than give you advice, I will tell you a story.
I was at my church’s regular Wednesday night dinner, and it happened to be the Thanksgiving celebration. This was one of the coldest nights of the year in Nashville so far, going down into the teens, and because of this, our church had added extra nights of Room in the Inn. The Room in the Inn guests came to the church dinner that night. As it happened, part of the program was a presentation of a recent mission trip taken by adults from the church to a program in Guatemala that serves children and their families.
After the program, one of the Room in the Inn guests approached our senior minister, and handed him six dollars, requesting that this money go to help the children in the program he had just seen. This man, homeless and down on his luck, gave the little he had to help a child who had less.
I happened to be standing next to them when this exchange happened, and I saw his face. He was filled with emotion, and he was proud to be able to do something. He regained some sense of himself as a man, a giver rather than a taker, in that exchange.
When we are in circumstances that we cannot control, when we are stuck in some situation that seems beyond help, sometimes we have to go outside a logical response. That man knew that, for tonight, he had food, and a warm place to sleep, and would have breakfast in the morning. He gave out of his abundance to someone who had less. I am guessing that gesture changed his sense of himself. Maybe there is a way we can think outside our boxes, too.
May your holidays be filled with compassion and awareness.
Susan is a communications and relationship specialist, counselor, Imago Relationship Therapist, businesswoman, mother, and proud native Nashvillian. She has been in private practice for over 30 years. As she says, “I have the privilege of helping to mend broken hearts.”
Like what you’ve read? Feel free to share, but please… Give HerSavvy credit. Thanks!