Duty and delight

A source of constant irritation to my parents was my persistent procrastination when it came to saying “thank you” as a boy. The occasion was usually a birthday card from my grandmother. When I ripped it open and looked for the money that was usually there, my response was more one of excited greed than gratitude.

“Have you called and thanked her yet?” I was asked. “No, not yet, but I will.” This went on for days. “Thanked her yet?” “No, but I will, I promise.” Finally my parents would escort me to the telephone and listen as I called my grandmother and told her how grateful I was for the five dollar bill. In time, the feeling of gratitude caught up with the practice of it—in fact, I’ve always thought that perhaps it’s the habit of gratitude that generates the feeling.

I cherish Thanksgiving because it is the cultural institutionalization of the practice of gratitude. Happily, there are no Thanksgiving gifts and few greeting cards, and usually only a festive, traditional meal. Mostly it remains a quiet day to remind us of simple but important truths: the goodness of the earth, the delight of good food, the gift of family and friends, and the essential human practice of gratitude.