Thank God for Cranberries and More

It's that time of year when we set aside a day to focus on what we have, not what's missing. But I did both this week when I remembered it's been ten years since Jud headed to heaven. (November 20, 1014) And then I remembered, with gratitutude, our life together for more than fifty-one years. But I also thanked God that I woke up. Like Scrooge, I'm thankful to still be here, to have another chance to do better. Love more.

And I'm grateful to all who called or wrote about Jud. It's good to be remembered. And it's important. Which is part of why I love and need Church and the Eucharist. We called it Communion in my Baptist upbringing, and celebrated it once a month. I hear my Daddy, the pastor, say," This do in remembrance of me" as he prayed over little cubes of white bread. Remembering what, as I held a little glass cup filled with grape juice in my hands? We remembered Jesus and his sacrifice on the cross. We remembered his love, forgiveness and grace. Now, at Christ Church, the Eucharist is every week, with real wine or an option of grape juice. Thin wafers, not cubes of white bread, represent the body of Christ. I'm grateful for both traditions..

So who and what will you remember on Thanksgiving Day? Well, how about cranberries? I know, you expected me to say something like family, friends, and good neighbors. And I am grateful for them. But Mark Stevick first sent the quote, then I read it in Garrison Keillor's column on November 20th. Both Mark and Garrison make me think and laugh. And remember. So here's the quote from Garrison's column, "THANK YOU FOR READING THIS; "Cranberries are the heart of Thanksgiving dinner. You don't want a gourmet dinner that distracts you from your life blessings, so you serve turkey, a profoundly average dish. Every turkey dinner is about as good as any other turkey dinner. Same with pumpkin pie. But cranberries are terribly exciting."

Well, that took me back to Wilson House on Gordon's campus where we lived for almost twenty years. I remember our first grandchild, Lily, carefully sorting berries. Starting at age three, she stood on a stool by the large kiitchen sink. Lily wore an apron , made by my Mama, which protected her from neck to ankles. How she scrutinized each cranberry! No squishy ones allowed. And speaking of cranberries reminds me that in Massachusetts, we have about 14,000 acres of cranberries. The only state that grows more is Wisconsin, who produces almost 5 million barrels annually. That's a lot of "excitement" to quote Garrison.

But aside from adding color and ecitement to our feasts, they're healthy. "They're rich in vitamin C, antioxidants and have anti-inflamatory compounds in them that can help reduce the risk for high blood pressure. "(Thanks, Google!) And in this volatile political season, that's the sauce to hit, come Thanksgiving.

So, since Lily won't be here this year, I'll have to sort those berries myself. But I hope to add some joy, gratitude and purpose to my pickiness, by picturing faces as I sort. And I'll pray for my family, neighbors, friends, you and our country and this world. You, like those berries, add color and excitement to my life. And you help keep me healthier than I'd be without our weekly visits. And for that and you, I am profoundly grateful.

Well, in a few days we'll gather around tables all over this country. There will be folks we like more than others. And like those cranberries, some of us have grown more squishy with age. But none of us should have to fear being tossed aside. So let love set the table and the tone. And remember, along with saying grace, lets be grace to each other. In case you're wondering, love has more healing benefits, than cranberries. Oh, and when you pass the cranberries, remember some faces. And, if they're around the table, tell them how much you appreciate them. Can't hurt and could add more than a spoonful of excitement. Especially, if you haven't said it for awhile. Remember, like Scrooge and me, If you're still here, there's still time to do better. And to love more.

Thank God.

And I mean it.