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From West by Northwest.org
Voices of the Northwest
A Thanksgiving Letter
By Kimball Lewis
Nov 27, 2002
The snows came early this year. We had a white Halloween and the horses have thicker than usual coats. The Elk are down early from the high country and are competing with the horses for hay. In September I found snow during an endurance ride from Prince Albert, Saskatchewan to Duck Lake. All of these signs point to a hard winter. We need a hard winter. The rivers and streams ran low all summer and irrigation water was half the normal allotment for most.
When I think about the dry, arid county I dwell in now, I reminisce about the damp and humid Willamette Valley. Houses look like Chia Pets and if you leave your car parked in the shade, moss grows on the hood. Water, everywhere water, but none to be found here. I hope it snows all day every day and everything will be new again this spring.
I've long since left Oregon behind for life on the range in the North Country. Old memories, good and bad, come with less frequency. I think about a concert at the Hult Center or the smells and sounds and of the Saturday market on 5th Street. These things are all part of history now. Life in the Willamette Valley flows ever forward like her namesake. There is no going back, ever, for any one of us. And so we look, move and hopefully think in a forward motion.
Today is Thanksgiving Eve. I found myself this morning in a contemplative mood. As we grow older it is said we grow wiser and hopefully, with this new-found wisdom comes empowerment and the subsequent positive action which is supposed to follow. I say this because I am thinking about Thanksgiving Day and what it really means. For me personally, Thanksgiving is more of a day for reflection and appreciation.
While I am a red-blooded American, I long ago abandoned the notion of Columbus discovering America and making everything groovy for everyone. That's not the way it happened. We came, we conquered, we abused the native population and basically pissed away most of our natural resources in the name of progress. Therefore, its hard for me to get to warm and fuzzy inside about Columbus and his gang. Instead, what I can do is reflect on what I have to be thankful for and moreover, what I can do to share this with my brother or sister et al. We have become a nation of selfish, instant-gratification consumers. We take for granted that everything is virtually instant from coffee to home loans. This is progress they say. We are a rich nation with a better quality of life than any other country.
How wealthy are we? I'll tell when it hit home that we are, for the most part, a nation of relative luxury. Yesterday I went to town to get some provisions. I don't live in town so I don't go all of the time. Yesterday I did go to town. While at the market I made an "impulse purchase." My impulse purchase consisted of a bag of birdseed and of all things, Squirrel Feed! You heard me right; I bought a bag of squirrel feed. I like to see the birds and squirrels (myself among them) have enough to eat when the winter gets rough.
With that said, I have instigated my own dilemma. How can I sit on my butt during Thanksgiving Day getting my jollies watching squirrels and birds eat when hunger is out of control right here in this nation of prosperity and wealth? Enter the guilt monster. I hate the guilt monster but what are you gonna do? I have plenty to eat. The birds have plenty to eat. Even the squirrels are making out well around my place.
So how is it then that I am supposedly older, wiser and moving forward? The answer is not at all pretty. I'm not trying to be a bummer during the holidays. I'm simply making a point as it has occurred to me first hand. We are all supposed do-gooders. Stewards of the land, the resources, our brother and sisters keeper. Yet while I sit and write this piece, there is a mother somewhere nearby, scraping change together hoping she has enough to buy bread for her children. There is a man begging on the corner without food or shelter. People are going hungry, sick and cold all around us in the city, the suburb and the rural landscape. The elderly woman sits in her home with no fuel for the furnace nor wood for the fire. I feed squirrels, birds and myself.
There must be a beginning to an end. There must be more we can do. Oh, don't get me wrong. The community Thanksgiving Dinner that will take place in towns and cities across America is nice but it is a very temporary fix. Our nation will be measured by how we care for our less fortunate. Thanksgiving for me is a day of reflection and to give thanks. I have a great deal to be thankful for. I could whine about so many bad things that have happened but the truth is, no matter how bad things ever get, most of us are still far and away better off than the vast majority of the population on this planet.
My hope would be that we spend Thanksgiving taking it in for what it is. A day to give thanks and appreciate every small and great thing in our life. My next hope is that after we have reflected upon our blessings and given thanks, we will spend the next day, week, month and years to come giving back to those less fortunate. Perhaps then every day would be more like Thanks Giving.
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