Thanksgiving is syrupy occasion but should have significance as the most unrepentantly old-fashioned of American celebrations, a patriotic heirloom. It represents more than a litany of good tidings and an amalgam of turkey-time truisms. There is a stubborn rectitude to the holiday itself, reminiscent of its stiff-necked Pilgrim forebears. More than any other date on the calendar, Thanksgiving has remained private and personal, devoid of tinsel trappings. Americans are allowed to be as prayerful or as secular as they choose, with no one complaining that they have somehow taken the thanks out of Thanksgiving.
No other holiday brings generations together without the lure of anything more tangible than a good dinner. The merchants, media and politicians haven’t ruined it yet. Thanksgiving stands out as an oasis of tranquillity and a reminder of the values that once tempered America’s materialism. We should give thanks for the one holiday that cannot be bought.