The perfect Thanksgiving bite? It’s a fork full of turkey, drowned in cranberry sauce, coated with stuffing and then smothered with mashed potatoes. Ahhhh… that bite tastes like happiness and bounty all in one.
It was in anticipation of this perfect bite that on November 23, 2006, me, my young husband, and our two-week-old baby opened the door of our favorite cafe. The cheery jingle greeted us, and the scent of pumpkin pie rushed to hug us and usher us inside.
This wasn’t a typical Thanksgiving. My sister and parents were both in Costa Rica, and I had just given birth to River. Hans and I were exhausted but happy and just figured we’d keep it simple this year with Mac & Cheese at home. A last minute phone call from my sister altered the plans when she INSISTED we find a restaurant serving the classic meal and she would pay for it.
It took the cafe door closing behind me to slap me out of my bliss and realize that things were not as I thought they were. Mixed with the smell of turkey was now a pungent odor of unwashed bodies, and a quick scan of the cafe confirmed shabby coats and hats pulled low.
We weren’t at a restaurant about to pay for a feast, WE WERE AT THE HOMELESS THANKSGIVING MEAL put on by the Salvation Army! I knew the signs because I’d been to one before as a VOLUNTEER the year my mom wanted to make sure her teens didn’t get too spoiled.
While processing the mishaps, a line was forming behind us, and I was too shocked to do anything but shuffle along until I was handed my plate. Somehow I stumbled to a table where I clutched my baby and tried to choke down mashed potatoes. A man with a guitar crooned, “Just direct your feet to the sunny side of the street”.
I almost wept.
It would have been bad enough if Hans and I showed up to the meal as a young couple, but the fact that I was cradling a newborn baby made us look absolutely pitiful. Two of the volunteers were watching us with kindness and concern.
“Look at that young darlin’ over there with the baby. Poor thing. Times are tough.”
I wanted to shout, “This is all a MISTAKE!
Our rental may be humble, but we hardly live in an unheated van, and I have good money in my pocket to pay for this meal!” (Okay, my sister gifted it to me, but even so!)
I could hardly make eye contact, my cheeks on fire, but my oblivious husband had the exact opposite experience.
“Can you believe this meal is FREE?” he gushed happily.
He rapidly gulped down his plate so he could get in line for pie.
As we drove away, I silently cursed myself for not sticking with the Mac & Cheese plan or at least for not inquiring more about the meal before showing up.
I was silent on the way home, and it would be years before I could think of that experience without cringing.
Flash forward 20 years, and I can’t help but laugh out loud when I remember that day! My perspective has changed because now I know what constitutes the perfect Thanksgiving bite.
It starts with a forkful of HUMILITY… since pride has now been drowned by life experiences. I didn’t have to walk long as an adult to realize LIFE.HITS.US.ALL. No one is above their legs being knocked out from under them.
Even if this year your bank account is stacked, you may have hunger pangs for your estranged daughter, or you may have poverty with your health… None of us are above needing help. Stay humble.
After a forkful of humility, the perfect bite is coated with HUMOR.
It is such a relief to be 46 with “nothin’ to prove and no one to impress” because I can cackle/ snort out loud at ridiculous parts of my life, and I can share all the humiliating details so you can laugh too!
Finally, the perfect bite is smothered with GRATITUDE!
Whether you’re spending this Thanksgiving having cereal with your dog, or you are surrounded by family passing around all the fixin’s, everything tastes better when we are grateful.
This Thanksgiving may your heart be as full as your belly!