A Well Spent Thanksgiving
Thanksgiving is coming around again.
For everyone who requested, here is my Thanksgiving story from last year. Thanks for asking.
Yesterday was Thanksgiving.
I have a lot to be thankful for, blah, blah, blah. But I don't feel thankful. I feel scared. I am going off to Italy on Monday for 21 days mostly alone, and I don't have a clue what I will find there, what I will come home to or who I will be when I return.
I am lost already.
Yeah, I know, the whining of the entitled. Some people don't know how they're making the next rent payment.
Neither do I. For now, I am putting one foot in front of the other. Thursday started out stressful.... we braced for mind-numbing traffic all the way to my sister's house in Long Island for Thanksgiving dinner. I was too overwhelmed to even think about it.
Instead, the drive to Oceanside was miraculously smooth; no traffic on the usually-too-tight Belt Parkway or the wayward Southern State. We arrived so early, we decided to stop at the local diner in Lido Beach for lunch.
As I collapsed into a red leatherette booth, I noticed a family of five had trudged in behind me and squeezed around a table. Mom and Dad, their two daughters ages about 13 and 9, and a family friend or perhaps a relative. They looked tattered and beaten down. The mom kept her head bowed beneath stringy brown hair, but I could see that she was pale. The middle aged dad had no teeth and talked way too loudly, scolding his daughters about their table manners, complaining about his cell phone plan. Grace, the older daughter and only one whose name I heard, was mostly quiet. She had a softness about her and I imagined her mother must have looked like this, before. The younger daughter chattered on happily about their new dresses - frilly, outdated, way too thin for this cold November day.
This was their Thanksgiving, at an empty diner, at 11:30AM.
The waiter reported the Thanksgiving Special was $19.99 per person and read the menu without looking up: slices of turkey, mashed potatoes, soup, cranberry sauce, gravy, desert. "You and Grace will share one," the dad announced to the two girls.
When their food arrived, I was glad to see that the portions were ample. Even so, Dad evenly divided the turkey slices between the two eager girls. "One, two, three, and half," he counted as it plopped onto plates. White turkey, brown gravy, beige potato mash. Where was the color?
"We have a lot to be thankful for, " said Dad, breaking momentarily from the main conversation of cell phones and table manners. "Two weeks ago I didn't know if I would be alive today." I noticed the cane beside his chair.
The comment went unacknowleged. Perhaps they all needed to ignore it just for this one day. Today, the little family focused on their undramatic meal.
The younger daughter chimed in happily to no one in particular, "This is the best Thanksgiving ever!" The meal seemed to satisfy her hunger for a happy family. "Don't put gravy on what you're not going to eat now," Dad answered back. "Whatever is left, we'll take home.''
I too have a lot of thoughts about not having enough.
The $100 I always carry in my wallet is not emergency money; I have had enough emergencies. It's my $100 answer when my mind admonishes, " You can't afford THAT."
I called to the waiter, a tall Indian man with a thick accent and no smile. I motioned for him to move in closer. "I want to pay for their dinner, " I said in a low voice as I nodded to the Grizzles. He looked confused. "Bring me their check while they are eating." I said, before my mind had a chance to get a word in.
He came back with the bill for $93.76 and I handed him my $100 bill. "I'll bring you change," he said.
If only he could, I thought.
"No; take another $20 for the tip."
"Don't tell them who did this," I said before he left the table. "Tell them Thanksgiving is free."
I gathered my coat and prepared to slip away in my anonymity. The blond woman at the table in front of mine caught my arm by the elbow as I walked past. "That was a very nice thing you did," she said. I smiled weakly, barely acknowledging her compliment.
That's what I do when I'm noticed. I fade away.
I am a No Big Deal-er from way back. I am a lifetime member of the "I Wouldnt Want To Be A Member of Any Club That Would Have Me As A Member" club.
Or, I used to be. Life is a big deal.
Outside on the street, my son Zach said, "I wish we could stick around to see their faces when the waiter tells them Thanksgiving dinner is free." For once, it wasn't that I didnt want to be acknowledged. This time, I simply didn't need to see proof to know that it was the best $100 I ever spent.
And for that I am truly thankful.
Rhonda Uretzky, E-RYT
Reader Comments (8)
Rhonda, Striking story. This story puts things, again, in perspective. Thank you.
Great story Rhonda. Your story is a great reminder that there are many things to be thankful for everyday. Thank you for sharing. We are thankful for you and for Riverflow Yoga!
Great example of giving not in vain. Giving simply because you can--because you felt it was right. Happy Thanksgiving!
Wonderful!! Have a fantastic Thanksgiving!
Beautiful story Rhonda! A nice reminder about what it's all about- being generous as well as Thankful this holiday season.
A native New Yorker, I experienced giving in a progressive fashion. First there was judgment, then judgment conditionally, then just giving without question. An example of this progression would go something like this. It also correlates with my understanding of the human species. Anyway, wow, poor guy he's homeless, how sad, to how sad, I'll buy him some food so he won't spend it on....and then, I'll give him money and it no longer matters what he does with the money I give him. Just experiencing the moment without conditions or judgments. Thanks Rhonda for this story of giving unconditionally. And we do get when we give. "It is in giving that we receive."
Rhonda, it is the thought that counts...$100 spent on a deserving family :)). Best Thanksgiving gift one could think of !
Thanks Anu... This really put meaning back into the holidays for me