Thanksgiving: Holiday … Just Thursday … or Day of Mourning?
Millions of people in the US will sit down with family and/or friends today to celebrate the Thanksgiving holiday. Many, however, will not, perhaps by circumstance, perhaps by choice. It all depends on a person’s point of view.
Rocky: Listen, I don’t want no turkey anyway, ya know.from rocky (1976)
Adrian: But it was Thanksgiving.
Rocky: It was what?
Adrian: It was Thanksgiving.
Rocky: Yeah, to you, but to me, it’s Thursday, right?
“Should We Celebrate Thanksgiving and the Pilgrims?”by Nadra Kareem Nittle
Speculative fiction that reimagines the president’s “9/11 Address to the Nation” from 2001:
“Commitment to justice, liberation, or the overthrow of oppression is not enough, for all too often the means used have brought in their wake new injustices and oppressions. Love of enemy is the recognition that the enemy, too, is a child of God.”
from Jesus and Nonviolence
God’s Riches At Christ’s Expense …
Does this popular acronym for grace do it full justice?
Why not something a little more far-reaching?
God’s Richness At Creation’s Entrance …
Fourth Flash Fiction
Waving a small US flag, the little boy skipped along behind his mom and
older sister as they headed across the park for the start of the big parade.
The boy saw an old woman sitting alone on a park bench, throwing seed to
pigeons on the sidewalk in front of her. As he came closer to her, he noticed
that she wore mostly gray clothing—no red, white, and blue like all the people making
their way through the park.
The boy stopped in front of the bench, scattering the birds. “Happy
Fourth of July, ma’am!” he said.
The old lady smiled at him. “And happy Thursday to you, young man!”
A Short Story
the week’s hall monitor for Sunday school, stroked the right side of his bushy
mustache as he stood just outside the little kitchen in the church basement. He
still had no idea where he’d picked up the habit of stroking the one side of
his mustache when something intrigued him, but there it was. No changing now.
Not at almost sixty years old.
He shifted and leaned hard on his cane,
again thankful for the new hallway carpet that provided at least some cushion
for when he found himself standing long enough that his hips and knees began to
moan at him. Oh, they were already starting to whine now, but he ignored them.
Pretty much ignored the hall as well, except for a quick glance left and right
to see if any wayward kids had decided to start roaming the building instead of
staying in their assigned classrooms.
“Peace demands the most heroic labor and the most difficult sacrifice. It demands greater heroism than war. It demands greater fidelity to the truth and a much more perfect purity of conscience.”
from “Peace—A Religious Responsibility”
in Thomas Merton: Selected Essays