Thanksgiving is a Feminine Holiday
Everyone has a favorite
holiday. Mine has always—always—been
Thanksgiving. As a child it meant the
best food, unremitting talk, games and play.
As an adult it means ever so much more.
In my years of making Thanksgiving dinner I have come to
believe that Thanksgiving is a feminine holiday. I don’t mean that it isn’t enjoyed equally by
both men and women. I certainly don’t
mean that the deeper meaning of Thanksgiving isn’t appreciated and revered
equally by both men and women. I just
mean that the essence of the holiday is feminine. It is a day centered on two things, the meal
and the meaning. These are feminine
strengths.
Men are great cooks, but they aren’t likely to plan a
meal for a week, get the baking done the day before, set the table with
matching candlesticks and get up at 4:30 a.m. to get the meal started. Men are much more the spontaneous, “slap” it
on the grill type. And I haven’t found a
man yet who didn’t see an advantage to Chinette over fine china. No, this holiday loves women.
I
have a Thanksgiving morning ritual. Up
before dawn, I make my coffee (Minnesotan’s don’t do much before coffee), clean
the turkey, and prepare the dressing. Once the bird is in the oven, I
carry my coffee cup to the door, and step out on the cold, silent porch. I count the subdued lights filtering through
the curtains of every kitchen window I can see. I
know that each small beacon represents a woman starting the hours of work that
is the Thanksgiving feast. This is a day
designed to remind each of us that no matter what budgeting, what careful use
of leftovers, what creativity in bargain cuts or coupons it takes, our
families will be fed. We are
nurturers.
So we work, this one day, on celebrating food in abundance. We don’t carbo-load the potatoes, dressing,
bread, yams and two different kinds of pies because we need that much
food. We do it to show our families that
we can. We are women. We feed our families. They shall not want.
But
Thanksgiving is more than just the meal.
This truly is a holiday dedicated to the meaning of its name. Thanks to the human genome project, I can trace my
ancestors over 200,000 years of seemingly random migration from Africa to
northern Europe, Scandinavia and Great Britain . The fact is that I am where I am because of
untold generations who made one decision after another that led to me. One accident, one misstep, one choice of, “B”
instead of, “A” and I am a different person, in a different land with a
different story. There is much that I
can take control, ergo credit for, in my life; but the truth is, I am who I am
for no reason other than the Grace of God. This is what Thanksgiving is for.
Each
Saturday morning I work at the local Food Pantry sponsored by my church. If you have any trouble remembering how rich your life truly is, work a month of Saturday's with the less fortunate. This year my husband and I helped with the Thanksgiving meal that First Lutheran provides for several hundred needy people. Tom served, I did dishes, and toward the end we shared a wonderful Thanksgiving dinner with the friends who worked with us.
It has never been easier for me to capture the real meaning of Thanksgiving. If I missed my candlesticks and wine, well, I can get those tonight over a light meal and some dessert.
Thanksgiving
is a feminine holiday. It is a day to
nurture, a day to care, and a day to love the smallest gifts of faith, friends
and family.
Thanksgiving
is why I keep the faith.
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