A friend of mine once expressed surprise that we celebrate Thanksgiving, since we didn’t grow up in America. (She was pleasantly surprised.) Not only do we celebrate it, it’s a very big holiday for us, and the perfect immigrant holiday. On our first Thanksgiving in the States, we were grateful just to have survived, considering how we arrived in this country with around $200 in our pockets and all that.
Well, times are hard, and we’re still grateful. Yes, we’re part of the endangered middle class, battling every day not to go extinct, but we’re employed and we’re hanging in there. We haven’t lost our home, unlike so many of our fellow Americans. We could afford to have a home because we purchased it together as a family–family is a blessing, too. Love is difficult, but I love and am loved in return. Food prices have gone up, but our table will be full again this year and we will be able to indulge in the gluttony which is such an essential part of the holidays here. Winter weather has arrived, but it’s an Oregon winter, which means the temperatures dip a bit below freezing and everyone freaks out about it. Obama’s presidency hasn’t been perfect, but after seeing George W. Bush on Jay Leno’s show, I’m grateful for Obama, too. George, please stick to painting!
My family and I have lived in much darker times than this, and we made it. And even in Communist Poland, there were things to be thankful for, like being able to get bread at the store, or not going to prison. I’m not sure that I’m a glass half full person, but I’m at least a glass half-and-half person. So thank you, life, for our problems not being a lot worse. And a Happy Thanksgiving to all.