Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving is in two days. Take five minutes to remember why it’s celebrated.

Not the controversies. Not the turkey. Not the stress. Not Columbus, Pilgrims, or Indians. No, we celebrate Thanksgiving to remember the help that one group of people gave to another. Strangers helping strangers through a harsh winter in an unfamiliar land. Take five minutes to remember.

When the Pilgrims came to this continent they were woefully unprepared. They knew nothing about agriculture here. They were unfamiliar with the soil and crops. They were unfamiliar with the growing season and climate. The crops they planted failed. They were facing starvation.

The Wampanoag Indians had no such problems. They knew the land. They knew the crops. They knew how to grow them. They had an abundance of food and shared with the Pilgrims throughout the winter.

Although their crops had failed, accounts show that the Pilgrims had a harvest feast that year (1621). They invited Wampanoag sachem (chief), Massasoit. Massasoit brought many of his people and most of the food, including five deer. There were nearly 100 Wampanoag and approximately 50 Pilgrims who shared that harvest feast – allies who offered each other help and protection.

Later years brought pain, sorrow, and enmity to the relationships between the European settlers and Native Americans, but don’t let that sully the unselfish acts for which we give thanks.

What can you take five minutes to be thankful for?

Persephone, hold firm

If something doesn't feel right, even when it's an offer of help, maybe it isn't.

I'm moving tomorrow. A friend drove up from Colorado to help. When he made the offer he told me that he could get a good deal on a moving van and offered to rent one and drive it up here.

I hemmed and hawed. Wouldn't that end up being awfully expensive? Sometimes they charge per mile on top of the rental. He insisted it would be a good deal, but promised to give me prices before he reserved it. When he called me with them, they turned out to be just about the same as what a U-Haul truck would cost to rent. I suggested I just reserve the U-Haul so he wouldn't have to deal with it.

"But how would I get out there, then? Or, if I drive, what would I do with my car."

I had three suggestions: rent a car and drive up, take the bus, fly. He had arguments against each of them. Although I wasn't comfortable with the decision, I eventually agreed to leave the renting of the van to him.

He arrived yesterday. In a cargo van. Not a moving van, a cargo van. For the same price the U-Haul would have been. We've loaded it as full as we can, but there's a lot that won't fit. My vacuum. My shelves. My loveseat. And more. I have to leave them behind.

In the scheme of things, what I'm leaving behind is just stuff. It doesn't matter. But I shouldn't have to leave it. Had I held my ground and told my friend that I was uncomfortable with him renting the moving van, that I wanted to make sure I got the van I wanted, I wouldn't have to leave anything behind. He might have been annoyed, but not for long. I would have had to pay for him to fly out, but I'll end up spending more than that to replace what's being left.

It's my fault, and I'm annoyed with myself.

What can you stand firm on in just five minutes that may save you headaches or expense later?

What's the meaning of this?

"I hate my job. I can't wait till I retire so I can do something meaningful. Something that helps people."

I've worked with a lot of different people in a lot of different jobs, and this is something I hear over and over.

Sad, isn't it? To think that we can't do anything meaningful without having a lot of time. Yet there are billions of people who believe it. (Based on anecdotal evidence — I'd say more than half the people I've talked to believe it.)

It's a faulty belief. Sure, if you really believe it, it's true. You make it true. But it's an easy enough belief to challenge. An easy enough belief to change. And beliefs that are easy to change are rare.

Here's what you do:

Sometime over the next day, do something nice for a stranger.

It could be paying the toll for the person behind you. Helping someone carry their groceries to the car. Offering a sincere compliment.

Save the emotional experience. Write down how you feel.

This should be done as soon as possible, so the emotional response is still strong. Are you happy? Proud? Connected? You don't need to use a lot of words — just enough to tell you how you feel. After you write the emotions, briefly write down what you did.

Read it —out loud — to yourself.

What would it be like if you felt this way on a daily basis? If you spent just five minutes doing something nice for someone else, and reflecting on how it makes you feel?

Rinse and repeat.

Do this again every day for a week. Then for a month. A year. A lifetime. You may not choose to write down your emotions every day, but you can still savor them.

It's that easy. Spend just five minutes helping someone else in some small and unexpected way, and you can change your life.

What can you do to add meaning to your life in just five minutes?

I did what?

Sometimes you don't even know you make a difference.

Not long ago a co-worker and I were sent to pick up a sheet of foam core mounting board for a presentation. I had purchasing authority, he had car keys and knowledge of exactly what he needed. It took just a few minutes to get to the frame shop. My co-worker told the proprietor what he needed and she went to the back to find it for him. I paid for the foam core when she brought it out. While I signed the credit card slip, my co-worker picked up the 3'x4' piece. We thanked the lady who had helped us, then headed to the vehicle.

He opened the hatch of the SUV and finessed the foam core into it. I opened the back passenger door and pulled it over the seat back so he could close the hatch. We got into the vehicle and headed back to work.

He stopped in front of the side door and we both got out. I waited for him to unlock the hatch, then pulled out the foam core and headed toward the building.

"You're gonna' carry it in?" Surprise colored the question.

"Yeah." I could feel the well, duh look on my face. He had to park the SUV; while he did that, I'd carry the mounting board. Made sense.

"Wow! You're great."

And he meant it. He was that surprised. I don't know if his wife and kids don't do small things like that, or if the folks he works closely with at work leave everything to him. I do know he was genuinely surprised and appreciative that I didn't leave the board for him to carry.

Like I said, sometimes you don't know when you're going to make a difference. Live a good life, help people--even with seemingly tiny things--and I guarantee that you'll have plenty of moments that make differences you never expect and may never see.

What small thing might you have done today that made a difference for someone else?