I am grateful every day. When I think about the first Thanksgiving I realize that it was because of immigrants who fled Europe because of religious persecution. They were poor, cold, starving, and depended on the kindness and generosity of the first Americans. Because of them we are here. Because of the gritty lives that they endured, we built a nation.
Yesterday, one of the Ancestry sites invited me to check on my ancestors. I found the
grandfather that I never knew. He sailed from Prussia in the 1880s to New York,
one of 11 children. They made their way to Minnesota and plowed the fields with mules. Public records sums up life in 3 words: geboren, verheiratet, gestorben.(Born, married, died)
Between birth and death what matters are those we walk with and how we treat
eachother. I am grateful to the grandparents who died young for their genes, their
courage, and their endurance in a new land.
Most of us have families who gave everything
so that the next generation would have better
opportunities. One day a year is not enough
gratitude. We have more than 95% of the world. We honor those whose shoulders carried us in their souls before we were a thought, and to the children who will come after us a better world.
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