Thanksgiving Grace

Three decades ago, I was on a crowded subway train the day before Thanksgiving with my son Alex. Halfway through our trip a man in torn jeans and a shabby shirt came onboard, leaned against a pole and began singing “Me And Bobby McGee,” a song written by Kris Kristofferson and most famously recorded by Janis Joplin.

The man was obviously looking for a handout, and many people were not listening. But he sang with such emotion and sincerity I was hooked. When he came to the line “Freedom is just another word for nothin' left to lose,” I thought my heart would fall out. So when he finished singing, I took a dollar (money was worth more then) out of my purse, handed it to Alex and told him to give the bill to the man. I think it is important for children to learn the pleasure of kindness at an early age.

Alex walked over to the man, and because for him Thanksgiving means turkey and family, he cheerfully wished the man “Happy Thanksgiving.” Everyone looked up. Everyone’s heart stopped. Most likely most of us looked forward to Thanksgiving dinner with Aunt Sophie who had opinions on everything and wasn’t shy about sharing them. Or Uncle Benny who snored through dessert.

No one thought this man was going to have a happy Thanksgiving in the bosom of friends and family. Likely he no longer had family and friends. And the most he could look forward to was a free Thanksgiving meal offered by a soup kitchen or community organization.

But suddenly, everyone on the train began digging into their pockets and opening their purses. The bills came forth like the manna that appeared after the morning dew to sustain the Israelites in the wilderness. I do not know what happened to that stranger on the train. I know my son grew up to become a strong and righteous man.

And so a Happy Thanksgiving to all.