These Our Hymns of Grateful Praise

Autumn Leaves 2 from Stock.xchng.jpgHistorical facts are always in dispute.  Not having been at the Thanksgiving celebration at Plymouth Plantation so many years ago, I can’t tell you what was said, how politically correct were the attitudes, whether the Native Americans spoke excellent English, as some claim, or excellent Algonkian.  I’m not even sure what was consumed, although wild game’s a given.  Having seen turkeys in the wild, I know what an addition they would have been.

Accuracy is important, and I thank the historians who struggle for it.  But at this time of year, I concentrate on the spirit of the holiday.  There have been harvest festivals throughout time, and myriad occasions when we have gathered together to thank whatever God we worship for the blessings in our lives.  Gratitude doesn’t set us apart from our fellow creatures, but the ability to express it is powerful and life altering, and for the most part, all our own.

So let me offer my own words of gratitude.  Thanks for following my blog this year.  Southern Exposure began just slightly more than a year ago, and I loved writing it from the start, although that was unexpected.  I appreciate your thoughtful, sometimes hilarious comments, your frequently expressed appreciation for my novels, the way you have shared important personal moments of your own here, on Facebook or in email.  You’ve made this blog a joy, and joy is underrated.

May you have good food on your table this holiday, good friends around it, and good times with family, who share your good memories of other holidays. 

Happy Thanksgiving from my house to yours. 

Leave a Comment