We sigh now, loosening our belts, skirts, pants and shirts, having survived the gathering of families and friends around the mythic bird of thanks, and now plunge headlong into what has been called “the season of giving,” or more commercially, “buy-this-stuff-so-we-can-get-bigger-bonuses.” Who among us gives thought to those who had no great gathering and no great meal? Many.
When I was an employee of the advertising department of a store in St. Louis, I participated in events designed to benefit needy families of the area. The advertising department held fundraisers throughout the year that we dedicated to families chosen at the “giving time.” The mother of my two youngest children had the two of them serving meals at the Wheeler Mission on Thanksgiving Day, hoping that they would see the contrast between what they had and what others lacked, and appreciate the difference. I would like to think that they live their lives in a way that reflects what they learned from their parents: a joy in sharing and the satisfaction of having helped someone else.
The people of Indiana — at the direction of the governor — have recently turned away some humans in need of solace and asylum, ostensibly because of the belief that, since some of their countrymen had caused harm, they would, also. I thought of Article 13 of the 1851 Indiana constitution that specified that “No negro or mulatto shall come into or settle in the State . . .” and wondered if the idea of “better safe than sorry” — one justification for Indiana’s denial of humanitarian services to Syrian refugees — was also the ideological driver of the crafting of that 1851 article.
I have no knowledge of a reliable measure of the value of generosity, and no way to quantify the gifts of the heart. I do not believe that Internal Revenue Service will allow us to write off the hugs we’ve given, and recognize the delight we have conveyed to those in need of joy. But I have said to my children and my good friends that we must always do the best thing, not because of any honor that may result, but because we must always try to live as decent human beings.
In 1968, a rock band sang: “It’s the time of the season for loving.” They did not sing of the time between the carving of a turkey and the hope that a red-suited man will be found bent beneath a sparkling tree. They sang of things that I vaguely remember, but the song reached hearts. We have entered the time of loving and giving, and I hope that the greater number of us will be doing that giving. Let us fill the spaces created by those who do not believe that we should love our neighbor. Giving is what we should be doing, always, but if we need the cover of an event, then the event is “Now.” One thing done benefits many; do that one thing, and know that your gift is great.
The small things that individuals give to those outside of themselves are the things we must remember, those gestures of good will that are greater than the legislation and posturing of those who care not for anything other than pandering, and the next election. When we turn away those who flee terror, the children of war, the parents of fear and death, we ignore our legacy, the grace of the inhabitants of the land we co-opted.
Indiana repealed Article 13 in 1866, and we show greater respect to the original inhabitants of this country. We are capable of great acts of humanity; let’s just start giving.