Thanksgiving

This past week we celebrated a very American of holiday, a very human, a very simple and a very beautiful holiday--Thanksgiving. It is perhaps my favorite of all holidays, because the sentiment and history behind it is so very lovely. Two very different groups of people, with different beliefs and habits, cultures and customs came together to enjoy and share the fruits of their harvest and to offer thanks to God for their fortune.

Of course, we know the history that followed that first Thanksgiving. It didn't involve a whole lot of brotherhood, and the goodwill was short-lived. In its place came greed, intolerance and strife. On Thanksgiving 2006 in Baghdad, where our American troops continue to die in a mission gone terrible wrong, some of the worst sectarian violence yet was perpetrated in the escalating civil war between Sunni and Shiite militias. The President of Iraq can't even get out of his own country to meet with the Iranians and Syrians in hopes of gaining help from his neighbors to reign in the chaos, because the airport has been closed in a curfew. Militia heads are also threatening to abandon his already weak government if he goes through with his scheduled meeting with our beleaguered President Bush. Wouldn't it be wonderful if we could get everyone around a table for some turkey and pumpkin pie? But they are so rooted in their traditions.

My sister can't even get my uncles to try cranberry sauce that doesn't come out of a can. When my authoritative grandfather was around, we were always around the same table and we ate what was put there in front of us. But he is gone. A bit like Saddam. Now, my sister has new-fangled ideas and she wants to foist them on my older relatives. They say canned cranberries are tradition. That is how it is supposed to be. They dig in their heals. They would revolt, maybe even storm out of the house if my sister didn't put that wiggly can-shaped gel on the table. It is bad enough that she puts homemade on the table by the canned kind.
Of course there was Iraq before its dictator--not too long before mind you because it was a creation of lines drawn by the British in the 20th century, but whatever. Do you think the pilgrims or the Indians put canned cranberry gel on the menu?

But we went over there and we brought "democracy" to their table after we got rid of the guy at the head of that table, because since we liked it and we thought we do a good job of it, we assumed wrongly that they would just eat it up. We didn't even leave the "canned" Baath party army on the plate. We disbanded it completely. We totally blew it.

Of course, I watch all this from a distance. Both the war and the family Thanksgiving, which takes place on the East Coast, far from Austin. I get to cook whatever I want and I invite only friends to my table. Friends who can choose to accept my invitation and my food or not. We are a diverse lot. I am thankful for each of them. I am thankful for the food on my plate, for the wine in my glass, for my husband by my side, for the safe, warm house we share far from strife, far from canned cranberries. I am thankful for the chance to write this and for the will to get up each morning and face and think about the news. I am thankful for my mind and my voice. I am thankful that the Democrats have taken the Congress and pray they will use their opportunities to change the course of this nation and help us realize the promise of that first Thanksgiving. May we all recognize how blessed we are to live in this country and on this planet that we must share with our fellow Man. God bless us all.