Thanksgiving
by Dale Neibaur, November 28, 1975
On this, the one day of the year
When I can lift my voice to the heavens in thanks
Without being thought odd by any man;
On this, one of the last uncommercialized
And therefore truly worthwhile holidays;
On this thanksgiving day
I should first like to give thanks
To all those people
Living or dead
Who were foolish enough
To not understand that one person cannot change a society;
To all those blind to the hopelessness of today
Because they were too busy building a beautiful tomorrow
To let it bother them.
I would like to thank the fools
Who still believe in the hundred and first try
Despite the overwhelming evidence
Of the first hundred.
I would like to thank the farsighted men
Who built in America a great nation,
And the great nation America
That has built so many farsighted men.
I wish to salute the huddled masses
Who, amid the chaos of cocktail-hour drudgery,
Still yearn for freedom;
And I raise my voice in thanks
At the knowledge there is still a chance
They can be free.
I extend my love to friends
Who dedicate their lives to ideals
And refuse to compromise them;
Those who would not allow me to rationalize away my birthright
For a lukewarm bowl of pottage;
Those who showed me the way
Then shielded me on my left and right as,
Stumbling and slow,
I tried to follow it.
I thank my parents
Who valued marriage more than the marketplace
And who taught us that love was a gift
Far beyond the worth of any monarch's jewel.
I thank my brothers and sisters
Because, somehow, we grew up together
As separate reflections of that same family unit;
Conceived, nurtured, raised in an atmosphere of love.
Most of all I thank the Eternal God of Heaven
Who decreed in His infinite goodness
That man should have the right to think and to choose
And the responsibility
Of abiding by the results of his own actions;
That because of our God-given agency
We are perfectly free to be as happy
Or as sad
As we desire.
And so I lift my head and raise my voice in rejoicing;
Vowing anew that I will be truly and uniquely myself,
And giving thanks that I am still alive enough
To greet Thanksgiving
With joy.
[I don't think I would have the audacity to write this today. Perhaps for exactly that reason I feel it needs to be preserved. I feel much less certain about many things than I did at age 20; I no longer see "huddled masses" anywhere -- just good individuals struggling to make their lives work. And I know too many good people living in degrees of chronic pain because of circumstances completely beyond their control to be certain that "we are perfectly free to be as happy (or as sad) as we desire." But still I am deeply, if dumbly, thankful for my life.]