It’s Thanksgiving morning and my mom is up early making green bean casserole for a community meal that will serve 200. Open can. Pour. Stir. She’s cooking with gas. Then she runs out of green beans. The two of us head to the store to pick up more.
A collection bin at the checkout counter asks for cash donations for local families. I know you’ve seen them. These collection jars are everywhere this time of year. I dig in my purse and drop in some bills.
How is it that people are more willing to donate around the holidays than during other times of the year? Hardships don’t limit themselves to one season.
The day before, driving north in Indiana, it was impossible not to notice the large communities of ramshackle trailers that hug I-65. In Chicago, I’m aware of how many of my family’s friends are out of work. For sale signs are everywhere. According to my dad, many are in foreclosure.
For as much as my husband and I might complain, we know there are many less fortunate than us. (And believe me, we KNOW how fortunate we are.) Today, I am thankful for the health and happiness of my family and thankful to have enough to drop a few bills into a jar and not even miss them.