During our Thanksgiving-in-February festivities, I leaned into the power of gathering over food to heal and strengthen the fabric of our families and communities. In these times, we need this more than ever.

An 18-pound turkey thawed in the fridge. Stalks of celery and a pile of onions waited on the chopping block. Soon, they would be tossed with butter into a huge cast iron pan over a gas flame. Potatoes were ready to peel and mash.

Cue the pie dough, apples and cranberries. It’s time for Thanksgiving in February. 

One day and 19 hours away from my 11^th Thanksgiving-in-February dinner, with all of the prep on schedule, I settled in to write about the immense joy I felt in anticipation of this event this year and its deeper meaning.

What’s more powerful to strengthen the fabric of family and community than to gather for a meal? Like the ingredients, the teamwork in the kitchen then conversation around the table blend in their own alchemy to strengthen ties.

Even better: Gather with people you don’t always agree with. To “break bread” together mends and stitches us in many ways and cultivates peace. Simply that we can gather again — something I never questioned before 2020 — was important to celebrate.

So sitting still did not come easily. I swayed in my desk chair and popped up to dance to the driving beat and blend of cultures and instruments from a live performance of the Afro Celt Sound System (on YouTube) flowing from my office speakers.

Why not?! 

When people come together over what they have in common, whether that’s apple pie, family, helping people, music or the Super Bowl — well, my body cannot contain my joy.  

Eventually, I settled into the drum beat to finish writing and here we are.

More than Dinner

Sure, I’m a foodie who loves hosting big family dinners. I like to bake desserts and cook and design a beautiful table. But the Thanksgiving-in-February dinner tradition has always meant so much more to me than an excuse to gather for dinner.

I dream of encouraging families suffering from old arguments and bitter estrangements to come together, for just one peaceful meal and a “bonus” holiday. 

Just one meal.

If my family-of-origin found a way, as it did in 2010, well — then there’s hope for most families. (Read about Our First Thanksgiving in February).

And each time people come together over common ground, or pie, I believe that brings peace — not just for the people around the table but also sends peace out in waves into a painful, broken world. Healing leads to more healing. Peace leads to more peace. No step is too small to matter.

World peace. Why not?! Just a little dream I have. A hope. A wish.

For me, this applies to family in all its forms. To biological and bonus family, family-of-choice, and extended family. To community whether that’s around a church or temple or mosque, a town or garden.

To our American family — and beyond.

Unfortunately, sometimes estrangement becomes the only option. Some positions are non-negotiable. Some differences are irreconcilable. Even in my optimism, I still see that reality. Self-preservation is paramount. So, sometimes the best we can do is love someone from afar.

Muddling Through as Family

In 2022 America, I don’t have to tell you there’s an abundance of disagreement and conflict going around. We’d be hard-pressed to find a family or community not touched by bitter disagreement and deep political divisions over how to manage COVID risks and many other issues.

Some people see the solution as moving to a community in which most people agree. I get it. We’ve all felt uncomfortable or worse. I’ve been shocked, angry and appalled.

But I don’t think surrounding ourselves with only people who see things exactly as we do is the best answer.

Maybe we’re put into family and community settings with people unlike us and people with whom we disagree for a reason. Maybe we’re supposed to figure out how to function as a family or community to solve problems despite our differences.

Just a thought.

We must work through these times and culture wars. We don’t have to agree on everything or see things the same way. But we can still work together to solve problems. We must keep talking and stay family and community, in all its forms — and America — together.

We all need a little Thanksgiving-in-February magic. Don’t you think?!

Gratitude in Action

For me, that magic begins with gratitude, and has evolved to gratitude in action.

First, the gratitude. This year, we are celebrating that our family is healthy and the safe arrival of our first grandchild, a gorgeous baby boy, born on the same day as my mom’s 75^th birthday. My husband, who had to have open heart surgery last September, has recovered and is back to full health.

This year, we return to celebrate our Thanksgiving-in-February dinner in person after skipping 2021 to help people stay healthy. Our 2020 Thanksgiving in February dinner was the last “normal” holiday gathering before the pandemic shut down then disrupted so many gatherings, so vital to healthy lives and strengthening family and community.

As February approached, I felt strongly about moving beyond gratitude into action — a call to action to help fight hunger.

We have the good fortune to serve two Thanksgiving dinners each year. I have never known physical hunger. 

This is not true for everyone. And, as I am learning and many of you may already know, the depth of suffering is staggering.

Before COVID, food insecurity in the US was at its lowest in 20 years — and still, 35.2 million people, including 10.7 million children, were food insecure, according to FeedingAmerica.org. 

The 2021 estimates:  42 million people, including 13 million children, are food insecure. And that’s just in the US.

Thirteen million children with not enough to eat.

In Mifflin County, Pennsylvania, where I live, 15.2 percent of people are food insecure — which means not enough to be healthy, not knowing where their next meal will come from.

Sharing Soup & Pie to Fight Hunger

This month, our church family came together for a traditional “Souper Bowl” event that raises money to fight hunger locally and beyond. Volunteers make and stir big pots of beef-vegetable and chicken-corn soup — thick with tiny bits of flour and egg rivels, a Pennsylvania Dutch way to thicken soup — over a big, cast iron stove in the church kitchen. 

This was the first gathering of our church family since the pandemic. How I’ve missed the community and potluck meals! (For a long time, I avoided organized religion. So no one is more shocked than I am that I am part of a church. Some Thoughts on Faith.)

People could eat at tables together, or take their soup and pie home if that felt safer. Volunteers worked together to take soup and pie out to home-bound people.

This year, we added a twist: Pie! And some words on gratitude, plus a month-long collection drive of non-perishable food items. It was a beautiful, successful event that raised money for hunger relief and I was thrilled to be part of it. If you would like to donate.

Make no mistake: I still dream of a large, community Thanksgiving-in-February dinner — and hope to inspire many dinners, big and small, all over.

Agree to Disagree

Then, in the course of working together to help people, something pretty wonderful happened.

Our church welcomes everyone and works together to help people. Come as you are. That’s why I attend.

One woman from my church family and I shared enough polite but firm words in the fall of 2020 to know we disagree about how to respond to COVID. We hung in there. We tiptoed around each other for awhile. We kept showing up.

She and I both worked on the Souper Bowl (with Thanksgiving-in-February pie) event, coming together around our common goal of feeding people. She and I agreed to disagree on COVID response and agreed on the importance of remaining church family together.

We cleared the air, shared a hug, and decided we’d stir the soup — and share some pie together. Making that peace felt so good. I’ve missed her. Something else to celebrate: Staying family through these messy times.

Celebrating over Red Roses, Chocolate and Apple Pie

So I danced into the preparations for our family Thanksgiving-in-February dinner, a scaled-back event this year.

Making apple-cranberry pies. Checking my lists. Fetching the final grocery items for dinner.

My husband and I gathered with our family and dear friends for a weekend of Thanksgiving, playing dominoes and relaxing around the wood stove. My nieces helped decorate the long dining tables with pink chocolates, Hershey kisses, and silk roses.

My husband roasted the turkey and manned the six-burner, cast iron stove. He and a tight, hard-working kitchen crew made sure the Brussels sprouts, sautéed mushrooms, roasted carrots, turkey, mashed potatoes, stuffing and rolls all reached the tables hot and on time.

We took our time catching up and laughing over the meal and dessert: Chocolate pie, apple-cranberry pies and a cherry pie. Plus, of course, the chocolates.

Magic!

No Step is Too Small

So — let’s look for common ground. Let’s come together for a common goal, to help someone or to celebrate. Let’s seek ways to make peace, even in seemingly tiny ways. They add up.

Here on the ThanksgivinginFebruary.com blog over the next few weeks, you’ll see information and stories about ways to help fight hunger.

Do what you can. No action is too small. Every helpful step matters.

And if you are working hard every day to stay afloat and feed your family, then that’s your action step. That’s plenty. We can’t help anyone unless we are healthy and taking care of ourselves. I believe this.

Let’s make a little peace over pie.

Happy Thanksgiving!

One of our past Thanksgiving-in-February dinners for family and friends.