Good Morning Gentle Readers,
Harriet Beecher Stowe wrote in Oldtown Folks that the king and high priest of all festivals was the autumn Thanksgiving. When the apples were all gathered and the cider was all made, and the yellow pumpkins were rolled in from many a hill in billows of gold, and the corn was husked, and the labours of the season were done, and the warm, late days of Indian summer came in, dreamy and calm and still, with just frost enough to crisp the ground of a morning, but with warm trances of benignant, sunny hours at noon, there came over the community a sort of genial repose of spirit—a sense of something accomplished, and of a new golden mark made in advance on the calendar of life—and the deacon began to say to the minister, of a Sunday, I suppose it's about time for the Thanksgiving proclamation.....
The beauty of Thanksgiving is its unpretentious simplicity. A single day dedicated to the celebration of life, the change of the season, and the appreciation of family, friendship, God, and the many blessings that have crossed our myriad paths
As we break our bread and toast our loved ones we would do well to remember that it is a mere accident of birth that finds us in a land of material well being and relative freedom. Be grateful that your family won't hear air raid sirens tonight. Give thanks that home isn't a squalid refugee camp in Pakistan or a mud-walled, tin roofed shack in Addis Ababa.
On a personal note, I am grateful to my clients because I earn my living in an agreeable way. I am grateful, also, to friends and family for your friendship, your love, and your kindness. And to you, Gentle Readers, who take time out of your busy day to drop by every so often
May your day be blessed.