The First Thanksgiving

Perhaps I was told an incomplete story. Perhaps Thanksgiving was never centered around a helpless turkey. Perhaps the significance of the holiday was grounded in the gathering of people, the sharing of food, the exchange of stories. Perhaps it’s all about the— action. Spending my first Thanksgiving with the Barbour family in Maine brought me warmth in many different ways. It was in the perceptible excitement that pulsed through my friend Auden’s home as we walked up the stairs; in the warmth of Auden’s mom’s hug as I laid down my bags; the curiosity which her dad kept as I engaged him in a conversation about holiday traditions back home in Ghana. We were three of the twenty one anticipated guests, and from the huge dining table that Auden’s dad had planned to build, it was clear that there was a grand feast was coming upon us. 

In the Barbour household, I learned that Thanksgiving didn’t entirely consist of a single meal with friends and family; it was more about the moments spent with people that mean the most to us. That meant waking up at 7:30 am to attend a family yoga session, boarding a mini van for a trip down to the pebble beach amidst unthinkable temperatures, trying out free chocolate samples during a walking tour of downtown Kittery, or simply listening to the adults while they recounted past memories and sang along to old rock music. Don’t get me wrong- Thanksgiving is also about the huge roasted turkey thigh that neatly graced my plate. I was about to sink my teeth into it when Juliette, a family friend of Auden’s, politely asked me to pass down the cranberry sauce. When I looked up, I was struck by how the food was being passed around the table in a wave, and this synergy made me remember: the gathering, sharing, exchange, closeness, family. Though there were over twenty people that sat around the huge dining table, what rang louder than the clink of our cutlery was the laughter, and it was a delicate moment that was worth recording and keeping forever.

The festive mood didn’t leave after our huge feast. Although temperatures had dropped below 32 degrees the next day, people loitered around the towns square in heavy jackets hunting down Christmas presents in preparation for the Holidays. Sprawling to the sides of the streets were mistletoe and dangling fairy lights which illuminated the beauty of the little town that we were in. Perhaps a little snowfall would have truly made the moment magical, but we were grateful for what we had. The great thing about Thanksgiving is that Christmas follows right afterwards, prolonging the cycle of gathering with and giving to the people you care most about in the world.

There goes the story of my first Thanksgiving holiday. During this season, I remember that I am most thankful for having friends like Auden that welcome me into their homes. How about you-What are you thankful for?