For each new morning with its light,
For rest and shelter of the night,
For health and food, for love and friends,
For everything Thy goodness sends.
—Author Unknown
One of the many things I pray is that God spare my hearing. Being a parent to three vocal children means that screams, squeals, and loud voices vibrate my drums on a daily basis. And as much as I try to get them to use “indoor voices” and speak one at a time, the cacophony of their blended utterances threatens permanent damage (probably not, but sometimes I wonder . . .).
Recently, when their boisterousness was reaching the ear-bleeding stage (did I mention I was trapped in the car with them?) as each one was trying either to tell me about their day, kick her sister’s seat, and/or sing me a song, I took a crack at diverting and silencing them. It was a cool autumn day, and I pointed out the pumpkins for sale at the farmer’s market we were passing. “Hey,” I sharply barked, “who likes pumpkins? Raise your hand!” All three fell silent, and each raised a hand. Knowing I had about a two-second advantage, I plowed ahead.
“I like pumpkins too. Should we get some? We could carve them, make some pies . . .” I prattled on a bit about pumpkins, the color orange, leaves, colors in general, cooking. Their enthusiasm began to mount (again) to fever pitch as they opined on the topics I raised.
“Quick!” I exclaimed. “Around what holiday do people usually eat pumpkin pie? One at a time . . .”
We all agreed that it was probably Thanksgiving. I asked each child what Thanksgiving meant to them, and what they were thankful for. The 3-year-old mentioned her water bottle (I think she was just thirsty). My second grader started spouting off random edibles: “Mashed potatoes, food, dessert, salad, oooh, the pie . . .”
It was my middle child, the 5-year-old, who gave me the perfect answer in her thoughtful little voice: “Friendship and God.”
“Wow, good answers, guys,” I replied. “I really like that last one!” We were close to home, and the girls broke into the song “B-I-N-G-O” so the conversation ended. But I continued to ponder those words throughout the evening rituals of dinner, homework, bath, bedtime. Part of me wondered, albeit a bit cynically, if my daughter was parroting a phrase she had heard from a teacher at school that day. But at the time Thanksgiving was more than a month away—it was unlikely they were talking about it that early. So perhaps this really had been her speaking her views.
My thoughts went two ways. The first with alacrity: I’ve always thought God put my family into my life so that I could help them—teach them about God, show them how to be their best, and show them how to look to a future with Jesus. But what if they were placed to help me? To open my eyes, soften my heart, so that I could daily see the lessons, through them and through my interactions with them, pointing me back to God? These were humbling thoughts.
In the second turn my musings took, I discovered how apt my daughter’s definition was. Thanksgiving, not just the holiday but also the art, will always contain these two parts: God and friendship. If we love God and have a relationship with Him, others will see this and be drawn to us—and to God. At least that’s how it should work. With God and our “friends,” we’d make a “love triangle” in the very best sense! And to borrow from Ralph Waldo Emerson in Essays: First Series, chapter 6, we’d be able to say, “I awoke this morning with devout thanksgiving for my friends, the old and the new. Shall I not call God the Beautiful, who daily showeth himself to me in his gifts?”
It’s not only friendship. It’s not only God. It’s the combination of both that makes us who we are, who we can and will become—and for that we should all give thanks. This Thanksgiving Day and every other day.
_________
Kimberly Luste Maran is young adult editor for Adventist Review. This article was published November 24, 2011.
