A Reflection on Giving Thanks

On this day of Thanksgiving, I ponder the deeper meaning.  Yes, I know about its history, about the Pilgrims and the Indians.  For the past month I have watched people post what they are thankful for each day on Facebook—laundry lists of blessings.  My pastor has encouraged me to think about this more carefully.  What does it mean to be blessed?  Does it mean that God singles me out, deciding to give me something I need or even something special?  What about the children starving in this world or those who lost their homes in the latest storm?  Does God care about them?

When we say the word “thanksgiving” we think of giving thanks.  Can we take it a step further and consider giving as part of being thankful?  What does that really mean?

God gave us the gift of life, placing us in an amazing and complex world.  We were given other beings, both human and animal, with whom to share this life.  God connects us all through love.  It is up to us to accept this gift, be thankful, and to try to live fully in God’s Kingdom.  Sure there are hard times and tragedies in this life, but there are also wonderful opportunities.  Perhaps if we are truly thankful for our lives, we show appreciation by giving and living in love.

A Day I Can’t Forget

In our pasts there are events so tragic that everyone who lived through them can remember exactly where they were when they heard the news.  These are experiences that tie us together.  November 22, 1963 was such a day for me.  I was sitting in my fifth grade classroom.  There was a knock on the door and our teacher, Mrs. Schneider, went to answer it.  It was another teacher who spoke in hushed tones.  When Mrs. Schneider turned around she was visibly upset and told us that President Kennedy had been shot.  We sat in shocked silence as she walked over and turned on the small black and white T.V. so we could watch the news.

I remember sitting in that classroom with the other kids, staring at that T.V.  The scene is permanently etched in my brain.  We heard the incomprehensible news that the president was dead.  How could such a thing happen?  At home the same scene was repeated.  We sat in front of our black and white T.V staring at the screen.  The same scene was repeated throughout our neighborhood, our city, our state, and the entire country.  Everything ground to a halt.  For 3 days we all sat in front of our T.V.s.  We watched replays of the shooting, the arrest of Lee Harvey Oswald, the shooting of Oswald, the casket lying in state, the funeral procession, little John John saluting his father’s casket as the caisson rolled by, the grave at Arlington Cemetery.  The eternal flame.

My parents were staunch Republicans but that didn’t matter; party didn’t matter.  We all mourned the loss of the young president, our president.  Camelot had ended.  This tragic event forever changed us.  We lost some of our innocence that day.  And perhaps it prepared us for what was to come.

Transgender Day of Remembrance

Bundled against the cold wind

We sat on concrete benches

Watching eighteen yellow balloons

Held in a bronzed Anne Frank’s hand

Speakers told personal stories

And remembered 240 souls

Transgendered persons killed this year

Eighteen of them in the U.S.

People brutally murdered

For being who they truly were

People with lives and loves and dreams

Why?  Why did this happen?

Why can’t we accept differences?

One by one candles were lit

And balloons gently floated upward

Reminding us to never forget 

And to spread love not hate

11/20/2013