--- title: Improvement Era description: Monthly periodical of the Mormon church, 1897 onward. This library holds the issues of November 1897 to December 1930. authors: - Young Men’s Mutual Improvement Associations collections: - periodicals tags: - magazine - improvement-era periodical: Improvement Era volume: 34 number: 1 published: 1930-11 publisher: Young Men’s Mutual Improvement Associations publisher_place: Salt Lake City language: en type: magazine reference: "Young Men’s Mutual Improvement Associations, “Giving Thanks,” *Improvement Era* 34, no. 1 (November 1930): 4–4." source: url: https://archive.org/details/improvementera3401unse transcription: Transcribed from the Internet Archive scan of each issue (the item for each issue is named in the issue's own source); unnumbered advertising leaves are omitted, printed page numbers are kept as page markers. identifier: improvementera3401unse start_page: 4 end_page: 4 rights: status: public-domain basis: US publication 1930 or earlier (published 1930-11) source: https://archive.org/details/improvementera3401unse publication_year: 1930 note: The Internet Archive item metadata carries a blanket "© Copyright by Intellectual Reserve, Inc." notice. The library owner judged it inapplicable because this issue was published in 1930, before 1931; a scan-level notice does not restore copyright. --- # Giving Thanks The Improvement Era for November, 1930 Giving Thanks /"JNCE each year there is set apart a day on which V to give thanks. In November it comes, when the leaves on the hillside have turned from green to gold and then to crimson, when the geese far over- head give their hoarse, unmusical call of farewell, and the frost in the air sets our pulses racing and blood flowing faster. The harvest is in and all is in readiness for winter. To the sturdy Pilgrims and Puritans who had left homes and native lands for their religion, the end of a fruitful season was indeed cause for rejoicing and thanksgiving. Fearful of the Indians, fearful of cold and hunger, they relied upon their Father in Heaven for protection, and when it was forthcoming, to him they offered thanks. True, their homes were the rudest, their clothing rough and homely, their food simple and none too plentiful; but in their hearts was gratitude for life preserved, for obstacles over- come, for hopes yet unrealized, and so they raised their voices to give thanks. The occasion was not merely a day set apart for this purpose — it was a state of mind, an attitude. Without the warm understanding and appreciation of blessings received which comes to the thankful- hearted, such a day as Thanksgiving would be a mockery. If relatives gathered to eat turkey to- gether and warm congeniality in front of an open fireplace on this one day of the year constitute the whole of Thanksgiving, the day is lost, except as it might be classed with the rest of the days of the year. If grudges and old hurts and unrest and dissatisfac- tion are laid aside like a cloak for one day, to be re- sumed when the time of Thanksgiving shall be over, no thanks are truly given. To us, as to our Pilgrim Fathers, Thanksgiving must come from within, bubbling forth from the pure joy of living which must dwell within our souls. It must come as the culmination and natural result of many other days of gratitude, not as the impetuous growth of a day. 'T'WO girls there are in one neighborhood, friends •*• and schoolmates since childhood. Now they are grown, both attractive to look at, both intelligent, both good, but Margaret will appreciate Thanks- giving, while to Florelle the day will be merely an- other day. Margaret, upon arising in the morning, flings wide the blind and glories in the deep rush of sweet air she draws into her lungs. The barberry bush, turning red in the garden below, fills her with a sort of rapture, and the mountains, high and firm in the distance, impart to her strength and courage. "She turns to her business of dressing, glad of the new collar and cuffs, vaguely proud of the perfect darn in the toe of her stocking, and acutely aware of the joy her mother will feel when the three great bronze -chrysanthemums arrive from the florist shop. Florelle arises, cross that she cannot sleep longer. The shade sticks a little, and further irritated, she looks out to see if it looks like rain. It doesn't mat- ter, anyway, for she has nothing to wear but that "horrid old suit, and probably never will have on the ■wretched little salary they pay her at the office. She is glad she spoke up yesterday afternoon and told them not to expect her to stay after hours, no matter what the need. She will work so long, but no longer, and they can like it or not. Margaret eats her breakfast with a relish, enjoying her mother's enjoyment of her healthy appetite. She wonders who will be on the street car — there are always new and interesting faces along with the old, familiar ones. Some look so sad that she wishes she might do something to help lighten their load — she whose simple, quiet life is so free from hard- ship; so full of joy. And tomorrow's Thanksgiv- ing, when she can get in and cook to her heart's content. Florelle's breakfast is a sketchy affair; she shudders at the crumbs and the cocoa stain on the tablecloth, and determines to leave early enough to drop in downtown for a decent bite. If only she doesn't miss that miserable street car! Almost everyone has an automobile and it is too humiliating to be with- out one. She envies the owner of every car in town, and would gladly change places with anyone she can think of. Being poor and wearing old clothes and facing a day when the whole house will be smelling of onion dressing is almost too much to bear. To Margaret Thanksgiving is a day on which there is time to think aloud the thanksgiving which is ever in her heart for the good old world, for the stars and the flowers and the dear home ties. To Florelle thanksgiving can never come, for it is held out by inharmony and resentment. HTO go back into the history of the Pilgrims of the -*- 17th century and our own Pioneers of two hun- dred years later is to face the realization that in our lives are countless blessings which they did not enjoy. Religious freedom far greater than theirs, educational advantages, physical benefits — all are ours through little or no effort of our own except as we exert our- selves to avail ourselves of them in their fullness. For the simplest conveniences of daily life we owe thanks to those whose faith and study have given them to us : electric appliances to ease the tasks of the day and illumine the darkness of the night; books to glorify an hour of leisure; the hour of leisure itself; new va- rieties of flowers and shrubs to color and beautify our surroundings; musical instruments which carry to our senses harmonies undreamed of; thousands of things which enrich life through the sheer joy they add. And these are minor in comparison with the spiritual opportunities we have. Welfare work, in which another's load is lightened; leadership, where- in the hearts of boys and girls are opened to us; civic, educational and social contacts by which the influence of our words, ideals and actions can be felt by others — all of these offer unlimited avenues for happiness. Thanksgiving Day is only a mirroring of what other days have been, and a true day of giving thanks only if every day has been marked by gratitude. To fully live that day, we must fully live the days which have gone before, finding in every hour some- thing of goodness and blessing. To send up con- stantly throughout the year little prayers of thanks for all earth's loveliness is to find for ourselves the true spirit of Thanksgiving. — E. T. B.