Thanksgiving Reflection Essay

Gratitude remains the only key that unshackles us and lets us breathe free. We all unthinkingly use the phrase “the gift of life,” but it is only a gift if we really think of it as such…

Myth is not fiction. Myth is truth that ignores the facts. Myths are the tales we tell each other to explain ourselves. We have edifying myths like Narcissus, and we have cautionary ones like Sisyphus and Tantalus. We have myths about unbreakable friendship like Damon and Pythias, and we have heart-breaking myths to cope with death and other losses, like the great tale of Gilgamesh and Enkidu. But of all the myths we cling to, the First Thanksgiving (although we even debate when and where the first one took place) is perhaps our most cherished.

Many a cynic would sneer at celebrating the American Thanksgiving. After all, one nice meal—even one that lasts three days—doesn’t erase hundreds of years of slaughter and oppression. Some might even feel a certain frustration because the Native Americans had those newly-arrived immigrants outnumbered two to one at that celebration; they could have easily overpowered them. Instead, the Native Americans gave the new arrivals the seventeenth century equivalent of food stamps and provided them with most of their shared feast. It is no secret that history didn’t turn out so well. Who doesn’t wish that such a good beginning had not ended a thousand times in tragedy?

Yet we continue to celebrate not just the event, but also the emotion. There seems to be something primal, even urgent about this yearning to give thanks. And here is a terribly embarrassing confession. The first time a girl ever kissed me—really kissed me—I had two immediate reactions. One, of course, was purely physical and need not be discussed. But the second reaction was purely emotional—or maybe spiritual—and really surprised me: I wanted to thank her. The words almost blurted out; luckily, I willed myself to silence. How uncool it would have been to thank someone for a kiss! Of course, I’m much cooler with being uncool these days. Nowadays, whenever a good friend or one of my children kisses me, I don’t feel at all foolish if I reflexively say “thanks.” Sometimes I think this urge, this craving, this need to say “thank you” distinguishes us from the rest of creation more than our ability to think rationally or laugh at jokes.

Because of this seeming universal urge toward thankfulness, I suspect Freud went astray when he asserted—with all the ironic infallibility that comes naturally to agnostics—that fear is the basis of all religion. Superficially, of course, his view makes sense: Early men and women, frightened by their surroundings, unsure of their future, and unable to explain even the simplest of things in a rational way, created gods and monsters to better comprehend and endure the uncertainties and vicissitudes of life. Given how much fear-mongering there is among some religious groups and given religion’s sometimes deplorable history, I can almost sympathize with Freud’s shallow analysis.

But then one day many years ago, while strolling along a riverbank enjoying the soft grass beneath my bare feet and the warm sun pouring down unabashedly, I had this overwhelming impulse to be grateful. It was not a particularly unique experience, but an odd thought came to me that day. The odd thought was this: Perhaps the true primordial urge that prompts religion is not fear of dying, but appreciation for living. Just maybe, regardless of whether God exists or not, there is hardwired in humankind a reflexive yearning to give thanks; that we have some intrinsic psychic need to express gratitude—and that we ignore that yearning at great peril to our happiness and well-being. When primitive people rolled out of their caves each morning and looked about them at the high mountains and green valleys, they were awed by the beauty more than they were frightened by the dangers of the world. Maybe those primitives instinctively grunted a sound of thanksgiving for still being alive each morning and maybe each evening, amazed they were still alive, they again gave thanks. Maybe the miracle of cool fresh water and good hunting grounds made it impossible to just consume what seemed not merely there, but there for them to enjoy and nourish themselves. Maybe it seemed even to those uneducated, unrefined, barely human creatures that taking the earth for granted was churlish and unpardonably rude. Overcome with wonder, more than fear, thanking became part of everyday living. Of course, given the world as it is, even something as wonderful as gratitude can be twisted and soured: From an ancient father sacrificing his child in thanksgiving to a false god to a modern child sacrificing his dreams in gratitude to parents who push him to choose a career he does not want, we all must guard against gratitude that crushes rather than celebrates life.

But gratitude remains the only key that unshackles us and lets us breathe free. Life is a peculiar phenomenon. We all unthinkingly use the phrase “the gift of life,” but it is only a gift if we really think of it as such. If we don’t, then life is an unbearable curse. It is Hell itself. No matter how bountiful and varied our good fortune, life has no flavor and is devoid of any joy unless we are grateful for it. As the Dominican mystic Meister Eckhardt succinctly put it: “If the only prayer you ever said in your whole life was thank you, that would suffice.”

So, we come back to that First Thanksgiving and its preternatural hold on our hearts and our imaginations. Despite what we know to be true about the centuries that followed, we steadfastly and earnestly still celebrate. We do so not just because of this need to be thankful, but also because giving thanks is as much an expression of hope as anything else. And we want to commemorate that hope of peaceful coexistence even as faith in our modern world crumbles around us. We want to remember the help and camaraderie during that three-day feast, even though those feelings were lost over and over again as greed and fear and misunderstandings proliferated down the centuries. We cling to the myth and ask: If people can live in harmony and mutual affection for three days, then why not three centuries? We embrace the Thanksgiving myth and give thanks that we are not so self-involved that we are forgetful of being thankful. And even as we cherish Thanksgiving Day as being uniquely American, we recognize that it rightly transcends America: that Thanksgiving strikes a universal chord and that this day, more than any other, is for all people throughout the world.

The Imaginative Conservative applies the principle of appreciation to the discussion of culture and politics—we approach dialogue with magnanimity rather than with mere civility. Will you help us remain a refreshing oasis in the increasingly contentious arena of modern discourse? Please consider donating now.

Published: Nov 22, 2017

Joseph Mussomeli

Joseph Mussomeli served for almost thirty-five years as an American diplomat, including tours in Egypt, Afghanistan, Morocco, and the Philippines. He was the U.S. ambassador to the Republic of Slovenia and the Kingdom of Cambodia. Before entering the U.S. Foreign Service in 1980, he worked as a Deputy Attorney General in New Jersey. Mr. Mussomeli is the author of The UnChristmas Story: The One Who Said No.

More articles from author

As the cloud of emotions from last week’s election starts to clear, we begin to move into the holiday season. No matter what side of the political spectrum you fall on, we can all agree that the past few weeks, even the past few months, have taken a lot out of us. This election has been draining for everyone. It has been hateful, and it has been emotional. The negativity that has been seeping from supporters of both the Republican and Democratic parties has taken over my thoughts these past two weeks. I see it as I scroll through social media. I hear it in people’s conversations as I pass by. Among my friends, it’s all anyone wants to discuss, and these discussions are never without strong emotion. Everyone needs time to process this event and to wrestle with feelings of excitement, fear, or disappointment. However, I am ready for a change, and I am hoping to find positivity in the spirit of Thanksgiving.

Thanksgiving comes around every year, but what is Thanksgiving all about? In elementary school, I was taught that Thanksgiving was a meal that was shared between the Pilgrims and Native Americans. This meal is celebrated because the Native Americans helped the Pilgrims grow their first harvest in the New World. We did not learn the name of the tribe who partook in the meal or why Thanksgiving became a national holiday. Instead, we made turkeys out of colored paper and our smeared thumbprints, while teachers discussed why we should be thankful for our families, our classmates, and our education.

As I grew older, I stopped making turkeys, but my middle and high school conversations about Thanksgiving remained much the same. We completely missed the importance of the historical context of Thanksgiving.

The Wampanoag nation let pilgrims into their territory and onto their land when they arrived on the Mayflower. What’s more, they generously showed the pilgrims how and what to plant for each season (Peters, “Rethinking the Way”). Ramona Peters, a historic preservation officer for the Mashpee Wampanoag tribe, states that the pilgrims’ first harvest was celebrated by shooting off “cannons and muskets […], which drew attention” from the Wampanoag. Instead of the peaceful dinner that we learn about in school, Wampanoag warriors arrived uninvited to check out the chaos. According to Robert Tracy McKenzie, a professor of history at Wheaton College, the celebration in 1621 was a normal harvest festival; it only received the title of the “first Thanksgiving” in 1863 (“Rethinking the Way”). The Thanksgiving holiday that we grew up learning about was not actually Thanksgiving at all.

After the Civil War, Thanksgiving was declared a national holiday. President Lincoln used this story of the acts of kindness from the Wampanoag to try to mend the divide between the North and the South (Peters, “Rethinking the Way”). Today, we are also a divided country, split between two parties. No matter what your opinion may be, if we can all accept the reality of our situation then we can begin to move toward peace, acceptance, and gratitude. As Peters states, “we should all be proud that our country has a national holiday centered upon simply being thankful.” Thanksgiving was created as a holiday to unite people in times of extreme conflict, and it can once again be used to reunite a nation. 

Today, I realize that Thanksgiving is not at all about good food or a story about a harvest; it’s about bringing people from all walks of life together for a common purpose. It’s about looking at the world around us and discovering the truth. It’s about accepting all people despite their differences, backgrounds, beliefs, and opinions. Thanksgiving is about seeing that, even in the midst of turmoil, we are lucky. This holiday is not just about expressing love for our families and friends; instead, it is about showing kindness toward all people, which is something we should strive to do every day. On Thanksgiving let’s forget who voted for whom and love people as people. Let’s forget about our differences as we travel through this maze of life together. We can always find the good and positive aspects in our lives. What we put into the world, we can take out of it. Let’s decide to put love into the world and act with kindness toward those around us. Thanksgiving is one day, but let’s be thankful and kind all 365 days of the year.

Storrie, Esther, Ramona Peters, Richard Pickering, Robert McKenzie, and Yatibaey Evans. “Rethinking the Way We Teach Thanksgiving.” The Opinion Pages. New York Times, 25 Nov. 2015. Accessed 21 Nov. 2016.


0 Replies to “Thanksgiving Reflection Essay”

Lascia un Commento

L'indirizzo email non verrà pubblicato. I campi obbligatori sono contrassegnati *