{"id":9279,"date":"2011-11-20T14:43:58","date_gmt":"2011-11-20T21:43:58","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.boulderblueline.org\/?p=9279"},"modified":"2011-11-20T17:44:27","modified_gmt":"2011-11-21T00:44:27","slug":"finding-humanity-at-thanksgiving","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.boulderblueline.org\/?p=9279","title":{"rendered":"Finding Humanity at Thanksgiving"},"content":{"rendered":"

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What is Thanksgiving without food? There is no way to separate these concepts because the original intent of the day was to give thanks for the bountiful harvest, to gobble up the perishables that wouldn\u2019t last through the winter, and to transition our tummies for the upcoming months of eating cured meats and root vegetables. No matter that nowadays we can eat perishables year-round\u2014our brains and our bodies still want to make the switch.<\/p>\n

Two years ago, my husband, my son, and I volunteered to deliver Thanksgiving meals to the underprivileged. We had delivered food for Meals on Wheels several years earlier around Boulder but never at Thanksgiving, and this time we were visiting my mother-in-law in Bemidji, Minnesota. We thought it would be a great opportunity \u201cto give\u201d and to show my then-eight-year-old son that there were other people in the world who didn\u2019t live as comfortably as we did, with multiple Lego sets scattered around the house, a nice flat-screen TV, food stashed in the fridge and cupboards, and, most importantly, money in our pockets to go out at whim and buy more and more of these things.<\/p>\n

We were assigned only four deliveries in a mobile home park outside of Bemidji. It was a chilly day but not frigid. The lake hadn\u2019t iced over, yet, and bald eagles were perched in the trees where they could search, or \u201cfish,\u201d for their own Thanksgiving dinners. Still, you could see your own breath.<\/p>\n

My eighty-two-year-old mother-in-law escorted us into the trailer park, and she would remain in the idling car (with the heater cranked) while we made the deliveries of turkey, dressing, potatoes, corn, rolls, and milk. It was a modest meal, not a feast at all by my standards, but something you could unpack on the table like Chinese-food take-out. We were very jolly and felt really good about ourselves as we made the first delivery: two meals to a father and son. They were very grateful, smiled, slightly bowed, wished us a happy holiday, and then shut the door as we danced our way back to the preheated car.<\/p>\n

\u201cAwesome!\u201d my son said. \u201cThose people are going to be able to have Thanksgiving!\u201d He instantly felt he had done something good, when two minutes earlier he had no idea what was going to happen, or why we were even considering delivering food to people. It was a completely new thing for him: thinking of other people.<\/p>\n

\u201cCool!\u201d my husband agreed. He exuded a bit of smugness, as he understood he had helped his son gain a larger view of the world.<\/p>\n

\u201cRight on!\u201d is what I think I said. We high-fived each other across the front and back seats. \u201cOnward!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThis is great!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWow!\u201d We were really puffed up\u2014very proud.<\/p>\n

The next stop was at a middle-aged woman\u2019s trailer. Maybe she was a bit older than myself. She was alone and quiet and thankful. There was a part of me that went back to my childhood and hoped for a piece of fudge or a cookie as a reward for doing something kind for an older person, but there was no such thing on this day. The reward was our feeling of accomplishment. What this woman gave instead of candy was a silent space, a look, a nod. I had to savor that like I would a chocolate candy\u2014it tasted sweet, even kind of bittersweet, and it was humbling. It wasn\u2019t at all like trick-or-treating, where we would\u2019ve left each house with bags of stuff. Instead, we<\/em> were the treaters, and she<\/em> was the treatee. You have to do this kind of role reversal many times before you get used to it; it\u2019s not how we normally live.<\/p>\n

Once again, we returned to the warm cocoon of the car. We were smiling, but we were more subdued than we\u2019d been after our first delivery. We still reveled in our good deed, but now we were starting to feel the routine of giving, the part where you start to question what you\u2019re doing. I mean, why freeze your butt off and deliver half-warm food for people who can\u2019t even tell you thank you? What\u2019s the point? Let\u2019s deliver the last meal and get this over with! Then, we can go back home and have hot chocolate and eat a really<\/em> good meal!<\/p>\n

We still high-fived each other and yucked it up and were really full of ourselves. My mother-in-law giggled at our excitement. She had delivered Thanksgiving meals many times, and she was content, this year, to remain in the car and let us do the job.<\/p>\n

She pulled up outside our final stop, and we three got out of the car, resigned to continue the charade of having a good time.<\/p>\n

We knocked. No answer. We knocked again. We waited. No answer. Finally, we pivoted on our heels and started to head back to the car. We had taken just a few steps when the door opened slowly behind us, and a feeble old woman greeted us with a big smile on her face.<\/p>\n

\u201cHappy Thanksgiving!\u201d she beamed.<\/p>\n

\u201cHappy Thanksgiving, to you, too!\u201d we all agreed, yes, it was a most happy day. \u201cWe have a Thanksgiving meal for you.\u201d<\/p>\n

My husband slipped around her and placed the box on the table inside the door. It was obvious this thin, frail woman wasn\u2019t strong enough to carry it herself.<\/p>\n

She was so grateful, she couldn\u2019t help but continue to spew: \u201cThank you, all, so much! You know this is my last Thanksgiving meal. My doctor told me that I have only four weeks to live. I\u2019m so happy, my son and his family are going to show up soon, and we can all share this. Thank you, so much! Happy Thanksgiving to all of you.\u201d<\/p>\n

We were stunned. This time, we were the quiet ones. If tears didn\u2019t start rolling out of our eyes at that very moment on her porch, they came shortly after. I stumbled over my words and said something profound like I was glad she had family nearby. My husband and son agreed. We continued to stand there, not knowing what to say. I thought, should I hug her? Should I offer to do anything else for her? I remembered one woman I delivered Meals on Wheels to in Boulder always asked me to do odd jobs when I arrived: move her garbage cans, replace the storm window on the front screen door, rake leaves. What do you do for a woman who seems happier about her last Thanksgiving meal than I\u2019ve ever felt about any meal I\u2019ve ever eaten? And how was she going to split this measly box of food between so many people? More importantly, how can I walk away from a person who isn\u2019t crying out for help but so obviously needs more than a free meal, more than I can ever give her?<\/p>\n

We didn\u2019t want to leave the porch, but after her revelation, we knew we couldn\u2019t stay, either. Her family would be there soon. We\u2019d done what we came to do, and we needed to move on. None of us said a word as we drove back to my mother-in-law\u2019s house. None of us looked at each other or high-fived. The mission of our task had suddenly changed. It wasn\u2019t about us anymore, and I knew my Thanksgiving meal would never be as tasty as that old lady\u2019s, and I didn\u2019t care. My son quietly wept, and my husband and I stared out opposite windows in the back seat at the dead grass and the surrounding, expansive great north woods that would soon be covered with ice and snow and more ice.<\/p>\n

I think of that old woman every year, now, at Thanksgiving, knowing she\u2019s not around. But it\u2019s because of her that I try to overcome myself and reach out to others this time of year, especially in the form of food. Maybe it\u2019s their last Thanksgiving, even if they don\u2019t know it. Or maybe they just need a little help.<\/p>\n

I hope you will consider helping others enjoy a good feast this Thanksgiving. The easiest way is to buy an extra bag of food when you go to the grocery store. It\u2019s easy: buy two of everything that\u2019s on your list if it\u2019s nonperishable, and sort it into two different bags at checkout. Community Food Share will take your bag at the door after you\u2019ve paid for it. It\u2019s a no-brainer. The annual Let\u2019s Bag Hunger food drive ends this Wednesday, so there\u2019s still time.<\/p>\n

Community Food Share\u2019s cache is what gets distributed to the homeless shelters, soup lines at churches, women\u2019s shelters, justice centers (especially for cases in which a person has been evicted from their home), and police stations (even police carry boxes of food in their patrol cars).<\/p>\n

Here is a list of groceries around Boulder where you can donate food (basically, any place except Whole Foods):<\/p>\n