With a bit of disbelief, and I must say with a bit of smugness, I marked the days that led to November 27, Thanksgiving Day in the United States. My disbelief and smugness, of course, both stemmed from the sixty and seventy degree weather I was enjoying. Quite a contrast to the snowy Minnesota Thanksgivings to which I had grown accustomed! No crisp air, drifting snow, grey skies, or long scarves here. No football, only fútbol (soccer). None of those conditions that, for me, normally help this holiday mark the beginning of both the long haul of winter and the Advent season, when one is legitimately allowed to start at least humming Christmas carols. No, instead I have had the indescribable beauty of this warm, sunny, mountain-ringed, lakeside community.

     For the beginnings of the holiday of Thanksgiving, we look into our nation’s history and recall explorers and migrants and the native peoples of the land. We look into religious, political, social, economic, and personal conditions, decisions, and sacrifices made in the settling of this new world across the ocean. It is a very human story, a story of survival and interdependence and gratitude.

     In our modern times, outside of the pilgrim stories reincarnated mostly in schools and in some churches, this holiday is celebrated with two central themes: food and gratitude.

     As for food, no meal tops the traditional feast of turkey, stuffing, potatoes, sweet potatoes, cranberries, vegetables, salads, and pies. Even here in San Lucas, that is exactly what we ate. And ate. And ate. It was an unending meal prepared by an unstoppable kitchen crew of generous Guatemalan women.

     As for gratitude, Thanksgiving has become a time to focus on for whom and for what we are thankful. We express our thanks to God and to each other for life, family, friends, health, work, homes, sustenance, freedom, and faith – and perhaps even the awareness that we need to be so grateful.

     As visitors and volunteers of the Parroquia, we celebrated Mass before having our meal, sharing the Eucharist with each other. Father John Francis reminded us that Eucharist means giving thanks, so it was proper for us to pause and to turn our thoughts and gratitude to God, who gave us and continually gives us the gifts of life, faith, hope, joy, and, most importantly, love, God’s own love, God’s very essence and being.

     Guatemala is an interesting place to celebrate giving thanks. Gratitude is a central and integral theme in the life of the Mayan people. According to ancient creation stories, Hunaphú, who is Father God, created the world in five days and, on the sixth, created a person made of wood. This wooden person was incapable of gratitude and therefore had no spirit, no life. Alóm, who is Mother God, decided to create a person and consulted Ixmucahné, the aged and wise Grandmother God. Ixmucahné told Alóm to use the corn from her grinding stone to create humanity. Alóm did this, and her creation was, and is, able to express gratitude, which means it has spirit, has life.

     The importance of gratitude is seen in just about every interpersonal encounter and interaction. Shopkeepers thank customers for coming in, whether anything was bought or not, and the customers thank them in return. Friends taking leave of each other wish each other well and mutually thank each other for those wishes. After a meal, each person thanks the others, often individually, by name. One kind and peaceful gentleman I know, Don Thomás, thanks me for greeting him when I see him – though he is usually the one who spots me and goes out of his way to come and shake my hand. Almost every facet of life here is followed by or filled with an expression of gratitude.

     This gratitude is magnified in its expression towards God. This is a community that does not take faith and salvation, existence and life, for granted. These are people who struggle – who, for me and for others with whom I have spoken, redefine North American concepts of work and survival. They often live with less than they need, both materially and socio-politically, yet I rarely see expressions of bitterness or of envy. Instead I see and hear and feel and am awed by time, energy, and resources used freely in a continual, artistic, and deeply felt creation of thanks and praise to God and to each other.

     We in the United States set aside a day in our year to remember the pilgrims and to give thanks for our blessings, celebrating our gratitude with a feast comprised of the bounty of the land. It is good and important for us to do that. However, I think there are a few things we can learn from our neighbors in Guatemala. One, we and our neighbors are the pilgrims to mutually remember and appreciate. Two, every moment of existence is an undeserved blessing to acknowledge with humility. Three, regardless of title or deed, the land is never ours but always God’s, and all that we harvest from it is a cause for thanks. Four, gratitude is the true measure of spirit and life, the sure mark of fully understood and truly lived humanity.