Dressing the Table and Addressing My Heart

By Janine Throssel

As my silver sliver of a needle wove in and out of the tan fabric, I questioned my life choices. I clearly had a problem. I overcommit, overplan, and overestimate my time and ability to get things done. So, as our Thanksgiving guests were about to arrive, I wasn’t arranging the flowers or baking the cornbread. I was furiously doing needlework. Who does that?

Yet, that tradition has become an annual habit that means so much to me now. This year has found me sewing again, albeit earlier in the year than that first November. Painstaking hours of embroidery have turned into a lovely, enjoyable rhythm as the designs on my Autumn tablecloth continue to grow.

Thanksgiving Day is so underrated as a holiday, isn’t it? I’ve long thought so. It’s squished between the frights of Halloween and the frenzy of Christmas shopping. It’s on a Thursday, meaning that a lot of us are still required to work the days before and after. Cooking aside, It’s a pretty low-key event without a lot of merchandising, either. On Halloween, we want our pumpkins full of candy. On Christmas Day, we want our presents and stockings (full of candy).  On Valentine’s Day, we want romance (with chocolate candy). Then, on Easter Sunday, we want a bunny to bring us a basket (with more candy). We’re constantly wanting and longing for things. On Thanksgiving, though, we’re encouraged to stop and appreciate things we already have. How wonderful is that?

A few years ago, I decided to create a more tangible way to remember some of my blessings for longer than one little Thursday each year. So, I bought a set of fancy markers and asked everyone around my dinner table to write their name right onto the tablecloth I’d just bought, along with something they were grateful for. Our family had been through a hard year. In fact, it was our first Thanksgiving after the death of my sister-in-law. It was an emotional evening for us as we noted our gratitude for her and each other. In addition, there were handwritten love letters showing thankfulness for basketball, the cornbread I finally managed to make, and my son’s new girlfriend—who would eventually become his wife. We paused to reflect on our blessings, and that did our hearts good.

I didn’t want those precious words to wash away with time. So, as our next Thanksgiving together drew close, I got out the decorated linen and began to embroider over my relatives’ words in thread that matched the inks they’d used. It was powerful to reread their comments, to count blessings again as I sewed.

When I laid out the cloth that year, we all smiled at memories and wrote in new sentiments with the latest date. People shared their appreciation for music, family, and a pet dog. They added drawings—a sunflower, a rose, a rainbow. I had to bite my tongue when some of my guests got longwinded, writing line after line. I inwardly winced, knowing their words would require more time to embroider. Yet, I also was delighted at their eagerness to give thanks and looked forward to once again turning their signatures into stitches. I was already picturing a new meal the next year and more joyful moments with people I love.

The world has plenty of greed and anger, doesn’t it? Plenty of complaints and arrogance, too. What if we let Thanksgiving kick off a new way of living our lives? To set aside our wanting more and more and appreciate more and more instead? What if we regularly practiced saying thank you in our journals and prayers—and even out loud to the people around us? What if we looked for ways to encourage others and stopped taking our loved ones for granted?

Doctors tell us that our choice to stop and be thankful reduces stress, anxiety, and depression and can improve our heart health, sleep patterns, and blood pressure.  Plus, our expressions of gratitude can impact and help heal those around us. If we look past the world’s imperfections and annoyances, we can be amazed at the myriad of wondrous, beautiful, magical gifts all around us, big and small, every day.

To me, Thanksgiving Day feels like a bonus check, like a free day off for our own mental health. We can talk to people face to face instead of through a video screen, with no interruptions from school or work. It’s a chance to remember what life is supposed to feel like. . . not complaining, grasping, and pushing, but sitting contentedly and satisfied around a table with good friends and good food. Life is often better than we think it is. We’re just not paying attention.

As for me, I don’t think my time stitching is wasted. Investing a few hours in something as silly as a tablecloth has helped change the pattern of my days. As I think kindly about each name in colored thread and prepare my heart in love to receive my friends again this year, I am grateful for another chance to stop and be thankful for what—and who—graces my life and table.