Each year I write a new Thanksgiving blessing for our table. This year’s is a two-part call and response:
We are the tribe who walked over wet oak leaves on stone steps to get here.
Daughters, sisters, mothers, aunts, and grandmothers
We are the tribe who see each other in the gleam of candles in golden holders.
Sons, brothers, fathers, uncles and grandfathers
We are the tribe that hears small footsteps stomping up and down the stairs. Glassware clinks and silverware scrapes.
Here is where we share our stories.
We are the tribe that lifts up fine linens and ancient plates.
Here is where we hug and kiss. Baby skin and wrinkles.
We are the tribe that welcomes
New ways. Old traditions.
The newest baby, the toddler, children of the next generations.
Memories of the old.
We are the tribe of commitment
To mercy, openness, strength, love, respect, kindness