A little over a week ago people in America sat around the dinner table with their families, gave thanks, and ate some turkey. For me, like many Americans, Thanksgiving is one of my favorite holidays. Yes, there’s the food of course, but it’s much more than that. It’s about family. It’s about tradition and remembering. It’s about slowing down and really having a conversation with the people you love.
Besides not having the day off, we celebrated the most important elements of Thanksgiving. Our friends each brought food to share including, mashed potatoes, macaroni and cheese, stuffing, a slice of pumpkin pie to share with eight mouths, and a whole chicken cooked in a slow cooker. With all of the food on the table we each grabbed a plate and sat on the floor. We each said what we were thankful for and enjoyed the food.
Nothing can replace having Thanksgiving with your family, but I couldn’t help but think about how special that meal was. Sitting on the floor, my back up against a bed, I looked around and didn’t see people that I had only met nearly a year ago. I saw my family. We have been through so much together. Plopped in a unfamiliar country with an unfamiliar culture. We have been forced to come together and care for one another, because what’s the alternative? I think we’ve found out that we don’t do so well on our own and that we’re at our best when we let our guard down, become vulnerable, and do this thing together.
Earlier, I didn’t really tell the whole truth. I kind of got skipped when talking about what we were thankful for. And I guess I would have to say that I’m thankful for my new family. For accepting me. Taking me in. And reminding me what friendship is all about.