Thankless Thanksgiving

I must say, I feel a little sorry for the turkey, even though I'm sure he isn't minding that so many have completely sidestepped the holiday on which we eat him.

Thanksgiving is a little over a week away, but there's no sign of it anywhere, save for the few cans of pumpkin pie filling near the ReddiWip. I feel sad, frustrated ... maybe even a little irritated with a society that jumps immediately from trick-or-treating to gift gathering with no thought in between. I am irritated that there is already Christmas music on the radio, that lampposts have already been wrapped with festive garland, that shopping malls are already decked out in red and green, and that some homeowners already have decorated trees in their front windows and colorful lights carving their house out of the dark of night.

Don't misunderstand my rant. I love Christmastime ... the actual meaning behind it and the pretty accents thrown in: glittery decorations, ornamented trees and twinkling lights. When that first snow falls in November, it's hard not to think about curling up with a cup of hot chocolate beneath a glowing tree or popping in your favorite holiday movie. But I think Thanksgiving deserves a day not overshadowed by one glamorized by the retail world. Especially this year.

For some reason, I have become much more aware of my blessings this season. And I'm realizing I haven't been doing enough to help others less fortunate. I get so wrapped up in making sure my traditions return every year that the idea of giving up my parade-watching, coffee cake-eating Thanksgiving morning to serve in a soup kitchen or delivering baskets of goodies to needy families makes me uncomfortable. And yet the concept of serving was never intended to benefit the person doing good, but rather the person in need. Otherwise, it would be a completely self-centered act. I think the gratification that usually follows a good deed is in feeling that you are somehow being Jesus' hands and feet.

This past weekend, I attended the open house of an office building-turned-remodeled 14-bedroom transitional residence. Each of the rooms — they range from baby to teen to adult — is cutely and cozily decorated by dedicated volunteers who spent months pouring out funding, time and creativity. My parents and some friends put together one of the rooms and they could hardly hold back the tears Friday evening.

On the day I visited, it was particularly cold, filled with periodic snow squalls. It was a cruel reminder of how many are out there without a place to take refuge. I heard that there's already a waiting list for the shelter, which is aimed at getting people back on their feet by helping them find a job and put away savings. One elderly woman who could hardly walk came calling days earlier to find out if it had opened yet — only to hear she could only put her name on the list.

I'm sure there are thousands of stories out there like this one that will break your heart into pieces. It gives me quite the perspective when I'm staring into a packed closet each morning, worrying about what to wear, or trying to keep the cupboard and refrigerator stocked, or really disliking my job.

I know God has bestowed blessings upon me and my family for some reason and I'll be sure to thank him for them next Thursday — and each day, for that matter — as I'm watching my favorite pre-Christmas shows (Miracle on 34th Street and A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving) on the floor near my parents' fireplace with my husband and a cup of hot chocolate.

And I'll be sure to really listen when I ask what I can do for others.