(HOST) Commentator Willem Lange reminds us of the responsibilities of Thanksgiving.
(LANGE) Some old European languages used the same verb for "die" and "starve." Starvation used to be one of the most common causes of death – still is, in some parts of the world. The early Massachusetts colonists, unable to depend upon the Old World, were forced to rely upon the resources of the land, the largesse of the natives, and their own wits and strength. Living closer to the bone than any of us can imagine, they were deeply grateful for whatever morsels were thrown their way by what they considered a merciful god.
At the end of their first year – which many didn’t survive – they held a celebration of gratitude, like the ones they had known in England. We call it the First Thanksgiving, and assume the First Thanksgiving was the start of a tradition. But it wasn’t held in subsequent years. General George Washington decreed a day of thanksgiving in December 1777 to celebrate victories over the British. Not until Abraham Lincoln in 1863 proclaimed the last Thursday of November a national day of thanksgiving did it become a regular event. That first national Thanksgiving, held only in the North that awful year of Chancellorsville and Gettysburg, must have been particularly poignant.
In 1939 Thanksgiving Day moved again. Under pressure from the National Retail Dry Goods Association, whose members were eager to lengthen the Christmas shopping season, President Roosevelt changed it to the next-to-last Thursday in November. Finally in 1941, just before Pearl Harbor, Congress enacted legislation making Thanksgiving the fourth Thursday in November. This is the ancient tradition we honor each year.
I remember that 1941 Thanksgiving: Grandma presiding over the feast. The grace was fervent and interminable; I watched the steam rising from the mashed potatoes and gravy. Then Grampa dressed the carving knife on its matching whetstone and dissected the turkey like the surgeon he had once aspired to be. Afterward there were coffee and pies and ice cream, and catching up on family conversations. There was one automobile for the four households at our table, so he did a lot of chauffeuring before and after dinner.
It’s fashionable for us elderly to lament the passing of those old-fashioned Thanksgivings. Mother is now a partner in a two-income household; and the men, instead of sitting around the parlor during the afternoon talking politics, watch a football game on television. But change is inevitable. It’s fine, as long as we don’t lose sight of what Thanksgiving is all about.
What it’s about is taking a break from our everyday occupations and giving thanks for the incredible gifts we enjoy here in the United States – gifts that we couldn’t possibly deserve; they were given to us just because we live here. But along with them came the responsibility to care for others less fortunate than we. Only that makes Thanksgiving a full circle.
This is Willem Lange in East Montpelier, wishing all of you a wonderful Thanksgiving.