The beauty of Thanksgiving is that we celebrate the fruit of the harvest. It is a perfect time to do so, before the dark and cold winter days become too much of a burden, before the best of the surplus is gone.
Many cultures celebrate giving thanks in one form or another around this time of year.
The narrative of Pilgrims and Indians was an added construct and a peculiar twist given to a celebration of bounty. It’s twisted in the fabrication of myths it extols.
The celebration of harvest has always been, but the Pilgrim and Indian narrative was introduced after the Civil War to a country in need of healing. The truth is that the Pilgrims, who were not known as pilgrims but as separatists, took control of Wampanoag land after the village was wiped out by small pox the previous year.
It is worth a study of the origins of the twisted narrative but more importantly of the truths regarding the first settlers and the tribe.
Squanto, the famed Indian helper, was captured by the English in 1614 and sold as a slave. He returned from Europe in 1619 to find his entire community dead.
In 1637, it is estimated five hundred Wampanoag women, children and men were slaughtered in retaliation for the life of one separatist.
There are truths and there are falsehoods. Lies make us sick. They keep us from our becoming.
Perhaps as we bow our heads and give thanks we can pray for the strength to end the lies. We can hold the sanctity of life as priceless and we can recognize all people as one.
Healing demands truth. And if there is anything this moment in time will teach us, it is this: the lies of yesterday and today are killing us.
let kindness win 