Where the heart lives, as Thanksgiving nears

"Home," 5 x 7 watercolor greeting card

Thanksgiving Day, 13 days from now, will be different than any other as the pandemic has ravaged the country--except perhaps the first one.

Yesterday, 400 years ago, the Mayflower arrived in what is now Massachusetts Nov. 11, 1620, with 102 passengers. A year later, only 51 were alive to celebrate their first harvest and survival. Think about that...celebration mixed with sadness for all those loved ones they'd buried.

I always think of Thanksgiving as a family holiday, and as an adult, have enjoyed it more than Christmas.  It has been a time of gathering, of home--where the heart lives--even when traveling.

The gatherings will be smaller this year as a result of the disease, but like those first survivors 399 years ago, in this horrible year of disease, death, racism, violence and political chaos, we can still celebrate survival while mourning the tragedies and turmoil that  have saddened  and disrupted so many lives. 

Whatever happened to "good will toward men"?

Gateway to peace, 5" by 7"

America needs Christmas, and Thanksgiving to come early. Like right now.
Whatever happened to "peace on earth, goodwill toward men"?
The presidential campaign is out of control, full of hatred, meanness, intolerance, anger, falsehoods, stupidity, narrow-mindedness, violence. It's obsessive, depressing, dangerous, destructive and downright nasty.
For a country many people tout as a "Christian" nation, there is precious little evidence  that bears any resemblance to the teachings of Jesus in the Beatitudes,  or of the New Testament.
To wit: Galatians 5: 22-23:

^"But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness,  gentleness and self-control. Against such things there is no law."

Remind you of anything you see in American politics now, that represents us as citizens? I don't think so.
It's  so bad that for the first time in seven years, I haven't blogged in more than three weeks.  Creativity, which comes from The Creator, withered.
So finally, somehow this weekend, I began my Christmas cards. Only when my brush finally put paint on paper, did I realize what was pent up inside--Hunger for peace on earth, goodwill toward men.

"Living water"

A magic walk of Thanksgiving

Walking to the magic garden in November.

I went for a walk in a magic garden today, with a friend from long ago who lives there.
Every time I go there, I find him healthy and happy, and we have long talks.
Even though it seems I do most, if not all of the talking, he always seems to give me new perspectives and ideas and inspiration.
Today, I found him cooking breakfast on a Coleman stove, bacon sizzling in an iron skillet, coffee perking away, hot oatmeal ready to serve. 
Nearby a brook gurgled and I could see the movement of trout in the shadows. 
Ponderosa pine, fir and blackjack bordered most of the garden, which was alive with sunflowers, bumblebees buzzing, hummingbirds  and meadowlarks.
In the distance, blue mountains, dusted with snow, rose in the crisp autumn air, but the morning sun warmed the garden where we sat down to chat.
Hawks soared overhead, as grey clouds began changing the blue sky.
We sat on camp stools by the little morning campfire, savoring the smell of woodsmoke, bacon and coffee.
Sipping that coffee, I told him that tomorrow was Thanskgiving Day, and while it is a family day, it is also a day of memories for many, and of loneliness for others. The "holidays" are like that--a two sided coin...one side warm with comfort and joy, and the other cold to the touch.
Then he just looked around his magic garden, and I followed his gaze, drinking it in like another sip of coffee.
He didn't utter a word, but I know what he said.
Every day is a day of thanksgiving.