Once again I’m sitting on the train. We’re zipping through soggy Ohio on our way to a family Thanksgiving holiday in New York. I can’t wait. We already know what the main part of the menu will be – turkey. Pretty traditional, pretty tasty.

Once upon a time, at school I taught in a long time ago, we had a Thanksgiving tradition. On the Wednesday afternoon before Thanksgiving Thursday, after we sent the students home for the holiday, we went someplace for lunch together. The entire staff, there were about five of us, drove to a nearby pizza joint. It became our annual Thanksgiving tradition… Italian style. 

The details were a bit sketchy, but we figured that sometime, someplace, Italian pilgrim, Giovanni Something or other, and his band landed in Massachusetts. After sailing great distances in ships built by the great grand descendants of Enzo Ferrari, they landed near Plymouth Rock. So thankful to have new neighbors, the traditional English pilgrims brought out the pizza crust, mozzarella and pepperoni and had feast of thanksgiving to welcome their new paisanos to the New World. I may not have the story quite right but I remember sharing a tasty lunch with group of good caring people.

Yesterday, I remembered  a traditional Thanksgiving psalm, with my class, Psalm 100. Some of them remembered memorizing it when they were younger. I memorized it at some point in my life. My own kids memorized it when they were little and I’m sure that my grandchildren have or will put the words of the Psalm in their heads and hopefully their hearts. It reminds us that “… God’s love endures forever and his faithfulness continues through all generations.”

So, whether the menu today includes traditional turkey, pizza, spaghetti or whatever, it’s good to give thanks to God for, ________.    Well, you fill in the blanks.

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