DENNIS PATRICK: CURMUDGEON’S THANKSGIVING
Column: The Passing Scene
By: Dennis M. Patrick
Date: November 19, 2021
CURMUDGEON’S THANKSGIVING
Ah, for the good old days when Thanksgiving was a time for giving thanks to the Father. The time of gathering together was mostly one of conviviality and warmth and memory-making.
Everyone recognizes Lydia Maria Child’s poem “Thanksgiving Day” as one that inspires good memories. A few stanzas follow.
Over the river and through the wood,
To grandfather’s house we go;
The horse knows the way
To carry the sleigh
Through the white and drifted snow.
Over the river and through the wood,
Trot fast, my dapple gray!
Spring over the ground,
Like a hunting hound!
For this is Thanksgiving Day.
Over the river and through the wood –
Now grandmother’s cap I spy!
Hurrah for the fun!
Is the pudding done?
Hurrah for the pumpkin pie!
The real story, as most people know, begins in England in the early 1600s with the Pilgrims. Those who challenged King James’ ecclesiastical authority and who believed strongly in freedom of worship were hunted down, imprisoned, and sometimes executed. On August 1, 1620, these people fled on the Mayflower. It carried a total of 102 passengers, including forty Pilgrims. They believed they were in the hands of God. This was no pleasure cruise to the New World. During the first winter, half the Pilgrims, including Bradford’s own wife, died of starvation, sickness, or exposure. By spring they established good relations with the Indians. Indeed, the Indians taught the settlers how to plant corn, fish for cod, and skin beavers for coats. Eventually, according to William Bradford’s journal, unleashing the industriousness of the Pilgrims ended up producing more than they needed for themselves. Trading, selling, and exchanging things with the Indians followed. The first Thanksgiving was Bradford and Plymouth Colony thanking God, not the Indians, for their many blessings.
Today, many sing a different tune. Often Thanksgiving exhibits more tension than tolerance. Some conversations proceed tiptoeing on eggshells. Others deliberately seek confrontation fueled by drugs and alcohol. In our fractured society with splintered age groups, broken relationships, and a culture progressively separated from its Christian foundations, conversations may take a nasty turn.
Arguments proliferate. How many genders are there? Were Squanto and Samoset transgender or binary? Fly the rainbow flag with the American flag. (Notice how artificial identities revolve around sex?) Kyle Rittenhouse was guilty. Does Black Lives Matter matter? The 1619 Project proposes to set the record straight with revisionist history. Add teaching critical race theory to the list.
We can always be thankful that things are not worse than they are. What follows is a poem written in the late 1800s by American Josiah Gilbert Holland titled “GOD, GIVE US MEN!” In a spirit of inclusiveness, consider this a prayer for all who serve in Congress or otherwise in public service.
GOD, GIVE US MEN! A time like this demands
Strong minds, great hearts, true faith and ready hands;
Men whom the lust of office does not kill;
Men whom the spoils of office cannot buy;
Men who possess opinions and a will;
Men who have honor; men who will not lie;
Men who can stand before a demagogue
And damn his treacherous flatteries without winking!
Tall men, sun-crowned, who live above the fog
In public duty and in private thinking;
For while the rabble, with their thumb-worn creeds,
Their large professions and their little deeds,
Mingle in selfish strife, lo! Freedom weeps,
Wrong rules the land and waiting Justice sleeps.
Dennis M. Patrick can be contacted at (JavaScript must be enabled to view this email address).
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