Thanksgiving

THANKSGIVING By Fred J. Holton Thanksgiving! What memories it conjures up — what visions it awakens to old and young! It is essentially a "home coming" time. Today, son and daughter — children scattered far and wide from the old homestead, in the battle of life — turn now with unresisting step toward the "old home;" there to meet Father and Mother, brother and sister, relative and friend, under the old "roof-tree" — to circle once more the jovial "board" laden with the good things of life; there again to review experiences and renew the "home" spirit of early youth. And the eyes of Father and Mother will twinkle with what looks suspiciously like a tear, as they behold once more their children — yea, their children's children — gathered around their knee. Proudly again in their lovely offspring do they see their strength and beauty, their tide of "life" perpetuated and renewed again in the vigor and comeliness of their loved ones. Surely, for the day, at least, should all gloom be banished — all strife depart — old feuds be forgotten, in the very gladness of the hour, as we review again the golden memories of the past, and project the future with hope! Thanksgiving! 'Tis a pleasing, joyous custom. " 'Twas born of the travail, the hardships, and struggle of the past, and although it be true that the nations of antiquity — Egypt — Babylon — Greece — Rome — and later the nations carved from Rome, each had its own peculiar day, and rite, and ceremony, to celebrate the "Harvest Home;" still, as we know it, our "Thanksgiving Day" is peculiarly an "Amer- ican" institution, in its very spirit and origin. This day brings to us vividly again that little colony of the "Pilgrim Fathers," — their sturdy virtues, their unconquerable heroism, — who braved the dangers of the stormy deep, for Conscience's sake, and guided their "barque," in the light of "Destiny," to the bleak New England shore — there to find an elysium, a spot of earth, upon which they could worship God according to the dictates of their own con- science. They landed in the dead of Winter. The roar of the breakers, the sighing of the pi-nes, their only welcome home. They wrestled with wild nature and wilder men. Through the dread Winter, disease and want thinned their ranks, but they were sus- tained by the unconquerable resolution of liberty. They subdued the soil, and with its first fruits proclaimed a "Glad Thanksgiving Day!" Ah! well might they rejoice! They builded better than they knew. The "seed" of a race, the choice winnowing of nations, all the future strength, glory, power and majesty of the "Republic of Liberty," was already there, in embryo, in that little band, as the mighty oak is po-

34 IMPROVEMENT ERA tcntially in the tiny acorn. So from then till now, in days of the Na- tion's peril, as in prosperity, peace and plenty, has the pleasing custom of Thanksgiving come down to us. And why not? It is natural to be grateful. The rightly con- stituted man or woman cannot fail to see that Paul may plant and Appollos water, but the Lord of the Harvest, alone, must give the in- crease. The poet truly says: "He that hath Nature in him must be grateful; 'Tis the Creator's primary great law That links the chain of being to each other.' And David, the sweet singer of "Israel," fitly exclaims: "O give thanks to the Lord, for he is gracious, and his mercy endureth forever." And for what should we give thanks? Let us be thankful for "Peace!" In past years the world has been locked in deadly combat. The blood of brothers has been poured out as water — the youth, the pride, the choice manhood of nations have perished, that liberty might live, and be the common heritage of man. Though clouds still darken the horizon, the light of the new day is dawning. Let us turn to it in hope, and labor for its coming! Let us rejoice and give thanks, for equal rights, equal opportunity, freedom under the law, extended to all under the glorious ensign of the "Stars and Stripes." As that freedom was purchased at a price — the blood of our patriot forefathers — still let us highly resolve to hand down that precious legacy unimpaired to our posterity. Let us rejoice for life in the Twentieth century; that we live in this swiftly moving age, heirs of the ages to the accumulated wisdom and learning of the mighty past. Let us turn gladly to the mightier future, thinking new thoughts, doing the deeds that shall solve the problems of our time. For the goodly heritage of our land, our chosen land, our glori- ous state, redeemed from the desert and consecrated by the faith and labors of the Pioneers, let us give thanks! For homes upon that sacred soil, surely our hearts go out to God in gratitude. For valley, plain and mountain, for the treasures of the hills, for the glory of the mountains, for bounteous harvests, the fatness of the earth, in the season thereof, let us give thanks! But not in every home is joy — there are vacant chairs, little cots now empty, where the angel of death hath called away the little ones! Vacant chairs by the fireside, once occupied by forms of son, daughter, father, mother, — these shall not again return here — they rest in peace. To the bereft Thanksgiving comes to remind of joys that have fl:d! Again we see the darkened chamber; we hear the moan of pain, 2S weary sufferers, sick with dread disease, linger twixt life and death, through dreary, wasting days! Then we turn to the unfortunate — the poor, the old, the weak, th: disconsolate, pinched with poverty, pining for consolation!

THANKSGIVING 3 5 Oh! let us turn to these in loving service. Let us give words of solace, hope and cheer, heal the wounded, bind up the broken-hearted, feed the hungry, clothe the naked! "Freely ye have received, and freely give!" Thus only shall we rejoice in that higher spirit of Thanksgiving, expressed in Service to our fellows' — in the Spirit of Him, who came in lowly guise, in loving service to bring joy unto men, and who still speaks and utters forth his Voice to men and nations; and amidst the world's deep unrest, from out its gathering clouds, cries: "All men arc brothers; Peace! Peace! be still!" Faith O Faith, the fire that lights the soul, Kindled by God, who puts us here, Inspired the prophets and seers of old, And calms our every doubt and fear. O Faith, the worlds all by thee framed, The mouths of lions held secure, The seething fire held by thy reins, The ocean's turmoil safe and sure. Then give me faith, that precious gift; Its hallowed light around me throw, As, likewise, works, its counter-part, That I may blessings here bestow, Proving by acts a faith divine, And by that faith a love to serve, That I may train this soul of mine To work and hope with might and nerve. That I by faith may understand The sacred rights of friend and foe, And not misjudge my fellowman, As mortals often do below. May pride ne'er rule this life of mine. But judgment, truth and sympathy, That I may be a friend as kind As I'd have others be to me. That I by faith my lot may bear, Hoping, strugg'ing, battling on, Helping others, their sorrows share, And making life a merry song. Oh, give me life, and light and love, A hope in all my fellowmcn, A confidence that leads above, With kindly service to the end. Parker. Idaho. SIDNEY A. HANKS. SR.