Small Cheer and Great Welcomes

 “Small cheer and a great welcome makes a merry feast.”

---William Shakespeare

It’s Thanksgiving, but no one is cranking up a chorus of “We gather together…” Gatherings this year will be much smaller. There’s no high school rivalry football game, no Powderpuff game, and probably no honking horns racing around town. Wait, can we still have the honking horns and kids in cars? Please? Windows open, masks on, can we at least have one tradition remain a little bit the same? 

Traditions comfort us because they’re familiar. A tradition is an anchor to our past and a harbinger of hope for the future. We need to know that a holiday with family and friends, or a celebration of faith, or even just a birthday or anniversary party, will be a constant. The problem is that the only constant is change, and while many of us will still have a nice dinner, and maybe see a few loved ones, this year is going to be unlike any other year. 

There is so much that won’t be happening in the same way this year. Families that are used to having 25 people around a table are likely not going to be able to do that. Going “over the river and through the woods” might be more like going over the Internet and through the Zoom. One friend of mine normally cooks for about thirty people on the holiday, and her numbers are down to six. She said it’s been hard to scale back, because she’s just used to picking out the fattest Butterball birdzilla she can find in the grocery store. Her list in the past has included a dozen loaves of stuffing bread, fifteen pounds of potatoes, a vat of gravy that a small child could swim in, and more pies than should be allowed. 

Travel isn’t happening much this year either. The TSA numbers show that at this time last year there were between 2 and 3 million passengers in airports across the country. This year? It’s less than a million. That means that there are more than likely a few of our neighbors that are looking at  empty chairs around the table. It’s not just about the logistics of scaling back grocery trips and meal prep; what’s missing is more than a couple of pies and some extra gravy. 

There’s no way to change it, no way to make this virus just disappear, so we can carry on with serving mass quantities of food and crowding around the kitchen for clean-up duty. This is the hand that’s been dealt this year. Nothing has been traditional, nothing has been the same and there’s no way around it. So, since we cannot change the way this holiday is going to go, what can we do? Here are a few suggestions I’ve heard from friends.

1. Go rogue. Do something you’d never have thought to do because it wasn’t part of your tradition. Ever wanted to have a prime rib roast on Thanksgiving instead of turkey? Do it. Also, I have a great recipe for one, so call me if you want to try it. If your tradition is to go to a game as a family, take a walk on the beach instead. Not enough people for a touch football in the yard? Get out last summer’s cornhole set and start tossing. Is there a more perfect game for social distancing? The boards are supposed to be placed 27 feet apart, front to front. The only real danger is getting beaned in the head with a bag.
2. Give someone else a bit of “small cheer.” Bake the three dozen cupcakes or cookies you would have had on your table and drop them around to the neighbors. A little Tupper full of cookies, with a nice note just might make someone’s day. For the record, I like chocolate chip and snickerdoodles, but I’m not picky and surprise treats are always welcome.
3. Reach out and touch someone. No, not with your gooby snoogery hands, but with that little thing we all carry around or have in the house. You know, a phone? Cousin Edna couldn’t come dinner? Giver her a ring. You miss your grandparents? Well, unless you are trapped under something heavy, or you live off the grid, pick up the phone. It doesn’t have to be FaceTime, or a video chat, or some live streamed event, just hit the digits and tell someone you’re thinking of them. 

Nothing will be the same this year, and that cannot be helped. So, like the song says, “Love the ones you’re with.” 

It’s a business theory, but if something is in very short supply (loved ones nearby) and in very high demand (our traditions) it becomes very valuable. The small cheer we offer each other is that much more precious because it’s so limited. Thanksgiving isn’t cancelled, it’s just downsized, but welcomes can still be great, and the feast will still be merry. Happy Thanksgiving

 to you all.