Tuesday, November 22, 2011

Thanksgiving and The Gift of the Magi...


Thanksgiving means so much to Americans, but to me, it's a universal day that imparts much more globalization than our sea to shining sea. Perhaps, as a collective mankind, we can strive for continent to bountiful continent.

As the recession is hitting every US city and seemingly many nations, it is also the recommended season to examine gratitude. What does it mean to you? Who do you say "thank you" to? For what reasons?

My great grandparents used to tell me vivid stories of The Great Depression. They shared how they waited in lines for bread and milk; their meager earnings, the number of children per room; the imbalanced class lines. Remarkably, they made it through. Eventually, they prospered well. In fact, my granddaddy left this world a wealthy man.

In those intellectual circles at post Operatic dinner parties, everyone generally agrees WWII pulled America into action and commerce. Despite that I don't hold a poli-sci degree, nor am I a historian or a 60 Minute pundit...I have an anthropological intuition. I believe it was the gumption and heart of the human spirit that made us prevail.

What's wrong with today’s world isn't about money or enterprising ventures. It's about taking care of you, while you take care of me. It's not called Communism or Socialism. It's called Humanity. Cynics in the right row, feel free to call me an Idealist. Ya, so what if I should have it tattooed on my face?? The commanding interest is not lost on the many who are now in a class warfare once again; the masses are frustrated and struggling to find— the who, when, and how it will all be solved.


If you're looking for exact solutions in my subtext, I certainly can give you a few boldly in person. However, many of you might never speak to me again because I've got radical concepts that would be highly inconvenient to all, including myself. Yet, solving the budget crisis, creating jobs, providing healthcare, revising education-- these are minor discussions to a larger problem.


The problem and solution is easily recognized in one familiar story called “The Gift of the Magi.” Do you know it? It’s a great short story that embodies what Thanksgiving (and Christmas) is all about.


William Sydney Porter, pen name of O. Henry, wrote “The Gift of the Magi” in 1906. It's a short story about a married New York City couple too poor to barely pay the rent; no less a Christmas present for each other. The wife has beautiful long hair that she terribly loves. Despite this, she sacrifices her hair to buy him a chain for his precious watch. Meanwhile, her husband decides to pawn his beloved watch so he can buy her a comb for Christmas. Unknowingly, both have sacrificed for the other because their love, respect and gratitude are so strong. Beyond the situational irony and plot twist this had at the time, to me it has become a symbol of what we all should strive for in our every day lives.



Excerpt from “The Gift of the Magi”—

"Jim stopped inside the door…His eyes were fixed upon Della...

"Jim, darling," she cried, "don't look at me that way. I had my hair cut off and sold because I couldn't have lived through Christmas without giving you a present. It'll grow out again--you won't mind, will you? I just had to do it. My hair grows awfully fast. Say `Merry Christmas!' Jim, and let's be happy. You don't know what a nice-- what a beautiful, nice gift I've got for you."

"You've cut off your hair?" asked Jim, laboriously, as if he had not arrived at that patent fact yet even after the hardest mental labor.

"Cut it off and sold it," said Della. "Don't you like me just as well, anyhow? I'm me without my hair...You needn't look for it," said Della. "It's sold, I tell you—sold and gone, too. It's Christmas Eve, boy. Be good to me, for it went for you. Maybe the hairs of my head were numbered," she went on with sudden serious sweetness, "but nobody could ever count my love for you. Shall I put the chops on, Jim?"

Out of his trance Jim seemed quickly to wake. He enfolded his Della. Eight dollars a week or a million a year—what is the difference? A mathematician or a wit would give you the wrong answer. Jim drew a package from his overcoat pocket and threw it upon the table.

"Don't make any mistake, Dell," he said, "about me. I don't think there's anything in the way of a haircut or a shave or a shampoo that could make me like my girl any less. But if you'll unwrap that package you may see why you had me going a while at first."

White fingers and nimble tore at the string and paper. And then an ecstatic scream of joy; and then, alas! a quick change to hysterical tears and wails...

For there, lay The Combs—the set of combs, side and back, that Della had worshipped long in a Broadway window. Beautiful combs, pure tortoise shell, with jeweled rims—just the shade to wear in the beautiful vanished hair. They were expensive combs, she knew, and her heart had simply craved and yearned over them without the least hope of possession. And now, they were hers, but the tresses that should have adorned the coveted adornments were gone.

But she hugged them to her bosom, and at length she was able to look up with dim eyes and a smile and say: "My hair grows so fast, Jim!” And them Della leaped up like a little singed cat and cried, "Oh, oh!"

Jim had not yet seen his beautiful present. She held it out to him eagerly upon her open palm. The dull precious metal seemed to flash with a reflection of her bright and ardent spirit.

"Isn't it a dandy, Jim? I hunted all over town to find it. You'll have to look at the time a hundred times a day now. Give me your watch. I want to see how it looks on it."

"Dell," said he, "let's put our Christmas presents away and keep 'em a while. They're too nice to use just at present. I sold the watch to get the money to buy your combs. And now suppose you put the chops on."

Closely related to “The Gift of Magi” is the story of the Pilgrims in 1621. Didn't the Wampanoag Indians sacrifice their time and resources to help the dying new Americans? In that scenario, the Indians would be considered the "rich ones.” Rich in knowledge, experience and, certainly at that time crops, aka their commerce—they had no incentive to help the odd white people from Plymouth. Yet they taught these colonists how to survive. Survive and thrive we did due to the generosity of thankful and giving people.

The adage is “gratitude consists of being aware of what you have, than what you don't.” While we gobble down our turkeys and fall prey to the advertisements to run to the nearest store to purchase more things we don't likely need (primarily appealing to our egos)...maybe we can truly honor “The Gift of the Magi” and Plymouth Pilgrim story. One is fictional, the other is our history. What remains consistent is the message.



It is the history in all of us. Otherwise, how did we get here? It was never about the money. It has been about the family and friends who supported us to health and prosperity. Look here, I'm a Liberal calling for "family" values not because we need or should have the nuclear family. Laws do not define a family. It is not defined by blood. It's defined by a set of people who choose to be…united. Family is about people who need and want each other. The new order in psychology is that we're not supposed to be wanted or needed. We're supposed to NOT want to be wanted. We're supposed to be independent. This mentality makes us dogs in a dog-eat-dog-world. Unless you want to go down on all fours and gnaw on each other (some of you may), I suggest we keep upright and try to demonstrate what makes us different from all the other animals…the ability for compassion and reason.


Contrastingly, in every patriotic song, we call to each other as “brothers” and “sisters”...but rarely do we act like it. As an insider looking out (and often an outsider looking in), our “problem” is that America is in an identity crisis. We've forgotten our larger family isn't just the one we grew up with in one home. It’s the families that live in numerous homes across the country....all over the world.


Look into the eyes of a stranger. Welcome them to your table. Give thanks to them by giving them today's joy, and they will return it, even if it's decades later. It's a pay-it-forward phenomenon well worth repeating during these challenging times.


Ultimately, Thanksgiving Day allows us to set aside the problems of the moment and solely give our attention to the one human constitution we sometimes fail to remember in bleaker times— LOVE.


As for my gratitude, I thank my family— particularly my parents. They adopted a foreign little girl (long before it was fashionable) who needed a good family. A family she was given. It wasn't sitcom perfect. They provided a palette of colors in which made her understand the full definition of thanks. Mom and Dad, thank you for your strength and bravery.


To my friends, long term and newbies— thank you for your cheerleading and laughter. You provide family to me every day in so many ways. I hope I do the same.


To the United States— thank you dear America for taking in the persecuted and homeless. Individually, we may be weak but as a whole family, in the best of who we are— we seek truth, freedom and kind-hearted strength.


This country was founded on Thanksgiving principles. It's our soul…our birth, our middle, our never end. As the season heads to Christmas/ Hanukkah/ Kwanzaa, we're not just ready for holiday spirit but also ready to return home to a grand family…who’s not interested in distractions but more focused on love. Cherish these moments. Cherish each other.


As we express our gratitude, we must never forget that the highest appreciation is not to utter words, but to live by them. – John Fitzgerald Kennedy


Happy Thanksgiving. Many blessings and love to each of you.


Johanna




posted by Only The Lonely @ 11:48 PM