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A Thanksgiving Remembrance

 

Pride slays thanksgiving, but an humble mind is the soil out of which thanks naturally grow. A proud man is seldom a grateful man, for he never thinks he gets as much as he deserves.

-Henry Ward Beecher

 

This we know.  The pilgrims came across the seas, endured great hardships, in their voyage as well as in their new home.  In the midst of their struggles, aid came from the Indians, a people with whom they had nothing in common, and with no reason to help.  Yet, the help came across the racial, cultural, language and religious barriers.  In gratitude, the pilgrims reached back across those same lines, and welcomed those they had seen as savages, into their homes, for a feast of thanksgiving.  And so, we had a uniquely American event, where two peoples who had no language, no traditions, and no faith in common, were in communion.

 

Whatever happened after that day, the wars and betrayals, the terrible sorrows and endless trails of tears fed by the greed and ignorance of those that followed, the idea of that day still lives on today.  For always, as persistent as man’s selfish ambition, there has also been that unyielding human desire for freedom and truth, a just peace, and for the compassion that stubbornly, even in lonely anonymity, insists to extend its love to strangers.  So, people, even in their humble state of imperfection, see the good and the noble, recognize it, and admire it.  We, members of the fractious human race, occasionally glimpse a ray of the light that comes from the virtuous heart, from that part of the human soul that steps forth and chooses, for no worldly gain at all, to suffer, and lay itself down, for the good of another; and we, half blind and half deaf, inevitably preoccupied with the travails of our lives, try to remember it.

 

Today we stand on the shoulders of giants that were no bigger than us.  We are not Christians facing the mouth of a lion or the self-appointed inquisitors of Spain.  We are not Africans in the galley of a slave ship bound for the new world.  We are not Jews, stripped of everyone and everything I’ve ever had or known, headed for a chamber of death.  We know that, but for minor inconveniences, we are free men, and we are grateful for that.  And we see that we did not arrive at this place on our own.  We look back, and see all those fellow human beings who came before us, who learned, grew to be better people, and created the place we call home.  We are thankful to them, and will always remember them.

 

We quote now an excerpt from a speech by President Franklin Roosevelt, delivered in the midst of war, where he in turn quoted a prayer written for the United Nations.

…Grant us the wisdom and the vision to comprehend the greatness of man's spirit, that suffers and endures so hugely for a goal beyond his own brief span. Grant us honor for our dead who died in the faith, honor for our living who work and strive for the faith, redemption and security for all captive lands and peoples. Grant us patience with the deluded and pity for the betrayed. And grant us the skill and the valor that shall cleanse the world of oppression and the old base doctrine that the strong must eat the weak because they are strong.

…We are all of us children of earth - grant us that simple knowledge. If our brothers are oppressed, then we are oppressed. If they hunger, we hunger. If their freedom is taken away, our freedom is not secure. Grant us a common faith that man shall know bread and peace - that he shall know justice and righteousness, freedom and security, an equal opportunity and an equal chance to do his best, not only in our own lands, but throughout the world. And in that faith let us march, toward the clean world our hands can make. Amen.

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