Over The River And Through The Woods

‘Tis Thanksgiving Day!! “Frosty nights now bring frosty dawns, when {along the streams} each twig and stem is covered with hoarfrost.  Until the sun is well up and the day has begun to warm, it is a fantastic world of filigree.”*  Of course, there have been snowy Thanksgivings, but more often, the weather runs from a bit chilly but snow-less, to the occasional day of snow.  We’ve had both kinds.

The 1966 Thanksgiving, prior to our eldest son’s birth, was mild and cloudy. I remember taking a walk over one of the back roads near our Pennsylvania house, hoping that walking might create a little action baby-ward.  A light jacket was all we needed for that day. Because our family Thanksgiving celebrations were 3-4 hours away, and baby due any time, the doctor wouldn’t allow us to go riding off.  So, we enjoyed the weather and spent that Thanksgiving with just the two (but soon to be three) of us. 

An earlier one, 1965 I think, when we lived in Maryland, the weather showed what it was capable of, at the end of November. We had driven to New York to be with family - first near Hornell, to visit with Kerm’s family, and then near Rochester, to visit with mine.  It began snowing on the Sunday morning after the holiday.  Kerm had classes on Monday and I had a job, so we optimistically went on our way (of course, we were in our 20s).  After many miles of very slow progress, we decided that the traffic must stretch from Buffalo to Washington, D.C., and maybe beyond. We drove to College Park no faster than 35 mph.  Only one lane for each side of the highway was plowed.  It was a trip we’d rather not ever repeat.

Last year, it was “over the river and through the woods” to a son’s house we will go, and it was lovely. I was rather incapacitated at the time, so celebrating elsewhere was appreciated.  This year we will celebrate at our home again, on Saturday. As always, we will search out enough chairs, squish ourselves together around the table, and have a good time.  Celebrating on Saturday instead of Thursday works better for us.  Our church does a community dinner on Thanksgiving.  And our sons to need time with their other families. So, on Thanksgiving Day, I’m only responsible for 50 servings of Dutchess potatoes for the community dinner, and the rest of the day is mine. That is also why I have time to send out this essay out. Perhaps you’ll read it while basting the turkey or baking the pumpkin pies, or better yet, read it tomorrow, with feet up in front of a fire.

This Sunday, November 30^th, begins the Advent season. As we look back at our blessings for Thanksgiving, Advent urges us to look forward. For Christians, it is four weeks of preparation before celebrating the birth of Jesus. That undoubtedly means spiritual preparation, not necessarily shopping or baking cookies, but they can be part of the pattern. Our Jewish friends are looking forward to Chanukah which, this year, begins on the eve of December14th.  Kwanzaa, a relatively new holiday, begins on December 26^th … also Boxing Day in England.   Kwanzaa focuses on community and caring for each other, as does Boxing Day. Yule celebrants and Solstice observers are, no doubt, planning good times for those occasions.  And, BTW, the Winter Solstice, is December21st, and light begins to return, smidgeon by smidgeon.  YES!! 😊!  Every celebration that brings light, kindness and a recognition that our spirits need nourishment, brings blessings. Personally, I find these days a combination of activity and emotions; wonderful music, cookie-baking, bringing out the Christmas ornaments, and time for meditation.  I mentioned in a recent essay that every year, I try to stay sane all the way to Christmas.  So, during Advent, I plan more quiet times; use a seasonal devotional for morning and evening, and fill the room with music.  I try to curb my impulsive tendencies: to bake too much and to create “perfect” settings for  just the right ambiance. It seems a bit easier each year to remove another “should” from my list for my energy just isn’t there. Hopefully, calmness will sprinkle itself like glitter (and we all know how that spreads) in all the cracks and crevasses of our lives. 

The other pre-Advent necessity is creating an Advent wreath for church.   I began this about 30 years ago, as a safety measure.  The wreath, then, was simply a few small pine boughs wrapped around a metal Advent candle structure.  Now you know, candles grow shorter as they are burned. By the fourth Sunday, I was in fear that the pine would suddenly burst into flame.  We’d already had the shock of seeing a person set her bouffant hair on fire during a Christmas Eve candlelight service.  So, I offered to make the wreath, and the pastor gladly assented. I cut pachysandra on a mild day and put the stems into water.  Kerm cuts some white pine from our hill.  I then prune azalea and holly shrubs, giving me springs with berries, and add ceder, and boxwood. These are inserted into soaked oasis until I have a full circle of mixed, natural evergreens. Every Sunday, the wreath gets misted or soaked, to keep things moist. I really enjoy making it, but it takes several washings to remove the sap from my fingers and the twigs from the kitchen floor.

When the boys were small, at home, we used an 18-inch weathered fence post, into which Kerm drilled enough holes for every day of Advent. We then inserted slim, tall tapers that are sold to go in flower arrangements.  Every night, we had a short reading and lit another candle.  I’m not sure that the boys appreciated those times, but I did. It was a quiet lovely moment in my day, and maybe, in theirs.

Traditions are, in most situations, blessings to carry out and pass on. When they become rigid, they can be a problem, but mostly they are something we anticipate and enjoy. I hope we all appreciate small, wonderful moments in our lives, whether they evolve from years of tradition, or come from newly-made practices. And find gratitude in the small ordinary moments; the clatter of pots and pans, the smell of roasting turkey, the mixed sounds of laughter and conversation.  It is well to remember that the good in our lives almost always outweighs the difficulties.  Richard Wilbur**, in one of his poems, wrote that if we perceive the world with grateful eyes, then, even amid everyday hardships, if we look with believing eyes, “outside the open window, the morning air is all awash with angels.”   I hope this is true for you today --- and for all the days ahead. Happy Thanksgiving!

Carol Bossard wrties from her home in Spencer.    

*Hal Borland—American naturalist, writer and reporter.  1900-1978.

**Richard Wilbur---American poet and literary translator.  One of the foremost poets during WWII.  1927-2017.