Tag: Thanksgiving

A Bookshelf Full of Thanksgiving

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Amy stood in Scrooby, England, in the very chapel where 400 years ago many of the men, women and children who sailed on the Mayflower met to worship God. She saw Scrooby Manor where they planned their journey to Holland. She understood that the little band knew the venture risked both their lives and their fortunes and  yet would allow them to keep their sacred honor.

From childhood, stories of the Pilgrims flitted through Amy’s imagination. She dreamt of what it would be like to talk with William Bradford or Squanto. She admired their courage, she learned from their sacrifice, and she wanted their faith. 

Then here she stood where their feet once trod, sat in the pew where (supposedly) William Bradford once sat, and sang a Psalm that the Scrooby congregation may have sung all those years ago. 

Her Plymouth day was over all too soon. 

How did these people whose lives are so distant from Amy’s become real to her? Through stories, of course. Historical fiction, radio drama and even video may play a role in giving personality to names like Bradford, Brewster and Squanto. 

Here are several of my favorite stories. Many of them are for younger readers (not that older readers aren’t allowed to enjoy them!), but there in one tome on the list sure to satisfy the most sophisticated bookworm.

Problems in Plymouth (AIO Imagination Station Books) by Marianne Hering and Marshal Younger: Fueled by a mystery, this chapter book may be just the thing to get a young reader interested in these people called Pilgrims. 

The Mayflower Adventure (The American Adventure Series #1) by Colleen L. Reese: This was perhaps the first historical fiction book I read about the Pilgrims’ journey to America. You can time-travel all the way through WWII if you read the entire series.

“Stepping Stones – Parts I&II” by Paul McCusker: A pull-you-into-the-story audio drama for children that shares the story behind the Pilgrims coming to America and what it took for them to get here – a story many schoolchildren may miss out on today.

The Legend of Squanto (Radio Theatre) by Paul McCusker: Take a different look at the story of the First Thanksgiving as you step into the life of Tesquantum (or Squanto) narrated by Massasoit. If heroes are measured by how they respond to challenges, Squanto could be among the greatest.

Of Plymouth Plantation by William Bradford: I haven’t actually read all three-hundred-plus pages of this book, but I’ve read some and am rather fond of it because Grandma liked it. I believe she actually said it was “fascinating”. Beyond that, as any student of history knows, primary sources are the best if you want to get the real picture.

I hope you enjoy these stories and that you have a richly blessed Thanksgiving full of sweet times with those you love. However, as a recent conversation reminded me, sometimes we get so caught up in the “doing” of holidays, we can forget the point. For this holiday, the main thing is Thanksgiving.

Oh give thanks to the LORD, for he is good; for his steadfast love endures forever! – Psalm 118:1 (ESV)

 

Of Plums, Poland and Possessions

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“Lord,” Papa said loud enough for the angels, “we do not understand what you did to your plums, but that is your business. For the food before us and your blessings, we thank you.”
…And Papa, who had just lost at least half of his income overnight, had never looked more like jolly old Saint Nicholas.[1]

I recently read Eva Underground by Dandi Daley MacKall. While I wouldn’t put it on my most-recommended list, I learned a lot from it about life in 1970s Communist Poland.

Eva, an American teenager, moves to Poland with her father. While he teaches with an underground education movement, she witnesses the suppression of free speech, the fear of government displeasure, the limited food supply, the isolation from the world, the cost of seeking freedom…

Amidst all that, Eva meets Papa Muchowieckis who is thankful and trusts the Lord even when he has so little and half his plum crop is destroyed by an ice storm.

A book like this can really make you look around and realize how much you have, wonder if you need half the things you own, recognize more blessings for which to be thankful than you may have ever seen, and reflect on who really owns what you have.

“Lord,” Papa said loud enough for the angels, “we do not understand what you did to your plums, but that is your business.”

Your plums? Your business? Don’t we often think of the things we work for as ours, as belonging to us? The question, of course, is do they really belong to us? If we read the Bible, we will come to the conclusion that all we “own” ultimately comes from and belongs to God. Along with this, the success of our endeavors – whether our college studies or our plum crop – ultimately comes from God as well. It really is His business. if it’s not, then maybe God isn’t the omniscient, omnipresent, omnipotent God we claim Him to be.

Agreeing with Papa Muchowieckis that it is God’s business brings both peace and a sense of joy that Papa portrays. However, this peace and joy demand great faith. Do any of us have this faith? Maybe this is the kind of faith that grows from a life pruned by hardships and persecution.

[1] Dandi Daley MacKall, Eva Underground (Harcourt Books: Chicago, IL, 2006) pg. 148-149.

When Cousin Agatha Comes Calling: Tips for Dealing with Difficult Relatives over the Holidays

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When Cousin Agatha practically invites herself to the O’Dell family’s Thanksgiving, most of them welcome her. What could possibly be bad about letting a solitary old woman into your home, right?

The holidays are known for surprises. In the O’Dells case, the surprise of Cousin Agatha isn’t so sweet. 

By the end of Thanksgiving dinner, Mabel O’Dell and her family are worn out by Cousin Agatha’s demanding ways. Then she announces that she thinks she’ll stay until Christmas!

As Mabel confides in her friend Sarah Jane, she’s pretty sure that if Cousin Agatha stays, she herself will “just die,” [1] rather than live that long with this woman who wants to see everyone else working but won’t lift a finger herself.

Have you ever been in Mabel’s shoes? For all the wonderful wonders of the Christmas season, it is also sometimes a wonder that many of us have to face our most challenging relatives during this season that is heralded as a time of joy and peace.

How do you handle them without losing your mind? 

I think the story of “Cousin Agatha” by Arleta Richardson offers some helpful tips.

  1. Take one day at a time. For Mabel O’Dell, looking ahead to a whole month of Cousin Agatha is unbearable. Her mother offers some sound advice. “The Lord only sends us one day at a time…Don’t worry about more than that. When the other days arrive, you’ll probably find out you worried about all the wrong things.” She has a good point, right? If you don’t think you can stand a week with Uncle Arnold, just make it through day by day. Something else I’ve learned is that the middle of any stretch of time is almost always the hardest, whether it’s five days or a month. Once you make it through the middle, you can usually make it to the end.
  2. Don’t feel compelled to cater to their every whim or want. When Cousin Agatha complains about poor old Pep the dog coming into the house to escape the winter chill, Ma doesn’t flap her apron and make him trot out the door. She calmly explains the situation and lets Cousin Agatha grumble to herself. The tricky part is to continue both keeping your cool and standing your ground. It’s good to remember that one of the most loving two-letter words you can say to someone might very well be “no” if it’s said in a loving way.
  3. Speaking of love, why not love your unpleasant relations “to death”? While Mabel’s friend Sarah Jane suggests that she herself might consider giving Cousin Agatha a little encouragement to leave, Mabel remembers her dad’s view that “Christian love is the best solution.” Sarah Jane’s response? “All right, then…Love her to death.” Okay, so that may sound a little paradoxical, but I think it illuminates an interesting fact: Sometimes we can love people to the point that their crabby, Scrooge-ish ways just lay down and die. Of course, that’s a lot easier said than done.
  4. One thing that might help is to try to understand where they’re coming from. Of course, some people are just creepy, but othen times there are reasons beneath the ice. Maybe that grandparent who acts like an unchanged Grinch isn’t a Christian? Well, don’t expect him to act like one! What if your mother-in-law had a terrible childhood? Acknowledging in your own head how hard that could be might give you an extra ounce of compassion. Is your brother super-stressed over his job (or lack thereof)? imagine if you were in his shoes. In Mabel’s case, she thankfully gets a little help from a snowstorm.

When Cousin Agatha has to face the fact that something – the snow  that’s snowing them in – is outside of her control, it rocks her world. Mabel is then able to see a little glimmer of the inside Cousin Agatha – a lonely, insecure old woman.

Then a remarkable thing happens.

Mabel gives this female Scrooge a hug and a peck on the cheek.

What is really remarkable is Cousin Agatha’s response, “That’s the first time anyone has hugged me since I can remember. Do you really like me, Mabel?”

Ah, now we see. Cousin Agatha may not be a very nice person, but it’s not all without reason. Imagine not being able to remember the last time you got a hug! Having lived in a Latin American culture where we give hugs (and kisses on the cheek!) all the time, I think not being able to remember your last hug would be sad indeed. 

It’s a good reminder, isn’t it? Perhaps lathering on the kindness and concern – like a little kid putting frosting on a gingerbread man – could very well change the whole person into a new creation. (Frosting certainly can do astounding things to gingerbread men!)

In Cousin Agatha’s case, we aren’t given the rest of the story. That is, we don’t know whether Cousin Agatha really does change or whether she sinks back into her self-centered gloom. We don’t get to see how the O’Dells’ Christmas turns out.

That might be just as well. After all, Christians aren’t called to change people. That’s God’s business! (Insert sigh of relief, right?) We’re “just” responsible for loving them. (John 15:12)

I’m a little nervous writing this post because it seems that whenever we mere mortals try to encourage others to “do well”, God gives us opportunities to practice it ourselves. What if next week a crotchety old aunt whom I’ve never met appears on my doorstep and wants to stay until Easter? Gulp! Maybe you should pray for me extra…

Personal concerns aside, I hope these tips give you a little boost with your holiday season. And if you like the snippets of “Cousin Agatha” by Arleta Richardson, you may want to check out all the short stories collected in Treasures from Grandma’s Attic.

 

1 Unless otherwise noted, all quotes are taken from Arleta Richardson’s Treasures from Grandma (Colorado Springs: Chariot Victor Publishing, a division of Cook Communications, 1984).

Groceries & Gratitude

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Over a year later, I still think of it often when I’m grocery shopping. Standing amidst long aisles packed with food items that I can just take off the shelves and pay for myself, I remember them.

Lines of mothers and children waiting to get their one loaf of bread with their ration cards.

This was not a pivotal scene in Liz Tolsma’s novel Snow on the Tulips. The story follows Cornelia, a young widow engulfed in the pains and predicaments of life during the Nazi occupation of the Netherlands near the end of WWII and focuses on her struggle for courage as the Resistance movement seeps into her life.

But this one scene stands among my strongest memories.  Like I said, it’s been over a year and I still think of it.

It has changed a little part of my life.

Perhaps it’s guilt, you ask? I mean, there certainly are starving people in the world today while I stand in that grocery store overflowing with such excess. True, I could feel guilty sometimes.

But mostly I just feel…grateful.

I feel grateful for the plenty and the opportunities to share it. I feel grateful for the ability to choose what to place on our table. I feel grateful that, of all the uncertainties in life right now, I don’t have to wonder if we’ll have bread for our next meal.

Yet, maybe someday, I will be wondering if there will be anything to eat for the next meal.

When I think of that, I’m grateful for the stories of the past because they remind me of two truths: 1) people can get by on very little and 2) God provides. Certainly, we prefer variety and plenty in our food, but when push comes to shove, one really can be sustained on bread and broth or like the pioneers on bacon and hardtack. Then the Lord provides. Sometimes He provides by multiplying the 3 fish and 5 loaves. Other times He supplies by taking starving souls to feast with Him in heaven.

This is one of the blessings of history. We can prepare to face struggles courageously if we take time to study the past. And so, I am also grateful for authors like Liz Tolsma who take time to tell the life-like (albeit fictionalized) stories of those who have gone before us through times of plenty and times of poverty and watched God provide in His own ways.

He is, after all, the God Who makes the tulips grow through the snow.

Simply Stepping Stones: What Thanksgiving Is Really About (It’s Not Just the Pilgrims)

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All things considered, I think you could forget the Pilgrims and still celebrate Thanksgiving this year. 

But, no, just eating a stuffed bird or watching men chase each other with a funny-shaped ball does not count as celebrating Thanksgiving. If that’s all we do, let’s be honest, please, and call it Turkey Day or even Football Day.

(Note: I don’t actually have anything against turkeys – especially when they’re on my table – or funny-shaped balls; I just would like us to call things what they are, even holidays.)

Back to Thanksgiving. 

It’s not that the Pilgrims would be all fine and jolly with you forgetting them entirely. At least William Bradford would be concerned. And with good reason. 

He understood a particular aspect of humanity: unless you’ve gone through the suffering required to reach a goal yourself, you’re apt to not value the reward nearly as much as those who did suffer. Bradford wanted the Pilgrims’ descendants to treasure what they were given, so he wrote an account of their struggles called Of Plymouth Plantation. (It’s worth cracking the cover. I believe Grandma called it “fascinating”.)

But, as far as Thanksgiving Day itself goes, I think the Pilgrims really wouldn’t mind if we happen to talk about them less. Squanto and Samoset probably wouldn’t be bothered either.

Why? Quite simply, it’s not about them.

Yes, Thanksgiving is a good time to remember our history, but it’s still not about the Pilgrims.

Then what or who is it about?

In Bradford’s own words, this group of sojourners who became known as the Pilgrims saw themselves as potentially “but stepping stones” to something – or you could say Someone – much more important than themselves. 

“Last and not least, they cherished a great hope and inward zeal of laying good foundations or at least of making some way towards it, for the propagation and advance of the gospel of the kingdom of Christ in the remote parts of the world, even though they should be but stepping stones to others in the performance of so great a work.” [1]

Then who is Thanksgiving about?

Thanksgiving is – or is supposed to be – a day when we take time to be thankful not just to each other but really to God, the God Who sustained the Pilgrims, the God Who prepared Samoset and Squanto to help them, the God Who has been directing the stories of our lives ever before and ever since the Mayflower anchored off America’s shore, the God Who makes plants grow and created that turkey on your table. 

God really is the One the Pilgrims would want you to be thinking of and thanking this Thanksgiving, even if you forget them. After all, the Pilgrims may be simply “stepping stones”. 

“Know ye that the Lord he is God: it is he that hath made us, and not we ourselves; we are his people, and the sheep of his pasture.

Enter into his gates with thanksgiving, and into his courts with praise: be thankful unto him, and bless his name.  

For the Lord is good; his mercy is everlasting; and his truth endureth to all generations.”

~Psalm 100:3-5, KJV

 

1 William Bradford, Of Plymouth Plantation: Bradford’s History of the Plymouth Settlement: 1608-1650, pg. 21.

A Grief Novembered

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I’m discovering that grief goes through seasons. That makes sense since it’s intertwined into life, right?

And November is when the frills fade and grief settles down to overcast, bare realities. Note I didn’t say bad realities. The realities are just bare, stripped of the things that hide them or give them a rosy glow at other times of the year.

Today it has been nine months since Grandma passed away. So much has happened that I’d like to tell her about. If I could write her a letter, it would go something like this…

Dear Grandma,

I’ve been missing you more lately. I didn’t know that it would work like that – that I would miss you more later than at first. Maybe it’s because I’ve realized you won’t be here for Thanksgiving pie and I won’t be trying to figure out what to get you for Christmas. A lot of what I miss is getting to chat with you. Whether on the way to church or over our quiches and scones at that little coffee shop or here at home, we did a fair amount of chatting, didn’t we?

I’d like to be able to tell you about the changes in my life. Best of all is the new precious grandbaby. Tiny toes, always-moving hands, sleepy chirps, and kiss-me-please chubby cheeks! It really is true that babies grow so fast. Beyond that, you would love my new group of students. They’re exceptional, and I’m not just biased. I’m learning more about teaching and Spanish. Then there’s my writers’ group. I could probably make a book of stories about the different authors. You’d like reading some of their books. It would be a great way to find some you actually hadn’t read yet! Of course, I’d like to tell you about my own projects like how I’ve been tweaking that one last story I got to read to you and am also working on a new one. The new story involves pies…I guess that won’t surprise you. Then there are little things like how we repainted the bathroom. You might wonder about the combination of “watery” and “lei flower” paint, but, once you hear how it makes me think of the land of alohas and well-loved tales that take place there, you’ll laugh and decide it was a good – or at least ok – idea.

Speaking of laughing, I miss your clever ways of saying things. When you were alone, did you spend time just thinking up what to say to bring smiles to our faces? Some of your growing-up stories were pretty funny, too. You made life as one of seven kids in a pastor’s family sound pretty grand even with the hard times you faced. I’d like to hear those stories again and get to ask you more questions. There are things I never thought to ask you before that now I wish I knew.

It would be great to get your input on some of the decisions I’m working through. Like should we move to Norway and become reindeer ranchers or should we move to Ecuador and live in a house like Swiss Family Robinson? Ok, just kidding! The point is, our family tended to value your judgment on the big things, and I feel a little lost without it sometimes. I also miss asking you to pray for me, hearing you say you will and knowing I could count on it. Not that I don’t have other people who pray for me – it’s just not the same somehow…

That reminds me of something that came up at one of my writers’ meetings. In talking about our audiences, the thought popped up that generally young people today don’t have older mentors in their lives. I realized that that wasn’t true of me. How blessed I have been to have older people like you in my life. People with the time to listen, to laugh, to think and to pray. That’s definitely something to be thankful for, isn’t it?…

I guess that’s what happens when grief – and life – gets “Novembered”: we realize the things that really matter. With the extras blown away, we see, yes, what we’ve lost but also what we’ve been given and for what we can be truly thankful…even through the tears.