When I was growing up our family had a few Thanksgiving decorations. Most of them were hand-made by children, “turkeys” made out of the drawing of the outlines of our hands and painted as a school project. We also had wax figurines of pilgrims, which were made as candles, but never burned as candles in our house. They came out each Thanksgiving and were placed on the table as part of the decorations for our annual feast of turkey, dressing, cranberries, potatoes and other foods. It wasn’t just our family that had those wax figurines. Susan can remember them from her childhood thanksgiving celebrations as well. We have joked about those Thanksgiving candles that perhaps they were “issued” to Congregational church families.
Our thanksgiving celebrations usually included some form of the telling of the “first” thanksgiving. The story as we used to tell it usually included the story of the sufferings of the 102 Mayflower passengers, who arrived in November - too late to plant crops. Many settlers died of scurvy and malnutrition during that first winter. Only 44 survived. Those who did survive did so only because of the kindness of the local indigenous people. Squanto, a local Indian who had been kidnapped and taken to England nearly a decade before, served as an interpreter with the local tribes. He taught the Pilgrims how to plant and how to fertilize with dried fish remains. In the summer following that first terrible winter, Massasoit, the chief of the nearby Wampanoags, signed a treaty of alliance with Pilgrims. In exchange for assistance with defense against the Narragansett tribe, Massasoit supplemented the food supply of the Pilgrims for the first few years. That fall, the Pilgrims held a harvest festival after the crops were brought in. Massasoit and about ninety other Indians joined the Pilgrims for several days of celebration, dining on venison, goose, duck, turkey, fish, and cornbread. This tradition was repeated and became our annual Thanksgiving celebration.

The problem with that story is that it is likely that it probably is not accurate. Certainly the Pilgrims didn’t all wear black hats with a buckle. There are all kinds of details that we have imagined to be part of our Thanksgiving tradition that are the result of embellishment of the story. The treaty between Massasoit and the Pilgrims was signed. As far as we know, it was never broken. There probably was some kind of celebration. It probably did involve food.

The Pilgrim Hall Museum, however, has no record of that feast. The first recorded religious day of thanksgiving was held by the Plymouth colony in 1623. The crops were failing due to a severe drought. William Bradford wrote, “Upon which they set apart a solemn day of humiliation, to seek the Lord by humble and fervent prayer, in this great distress.” That same evening it began “to rain with such sweet and gentle showers as gave them cause of rejoicing and blessing God . . . For which mercy, in time convenient, they also set apart a day of thanksgiving.”

It is likely that the early Pilgrims held a long religious service - perhaps 3 hours or more, during which prayers were said and Psalms were read. At the end of the service there was probably a communal meal in which everyone shared.

If those early settlers were honest in their prayers, they would have included prayers of thanksgiving for the generosity and support of the Massasoit people. The settlers were a bold lot, but they must also have been deep into grief. Only 44 survivors remained. Yet none of them deserted the colony when the Mayflower departed for England after that first winter. They were courageous and dedicated. They were also dependent upon the generosity of the Massasoit and their gifts of food.

I was born 332 years after that summer of survival for the Pilgrims. I cannot trace my family line to those people. Rather, I am an inheritor of the church that they founded. I have never lived anywhere near the New England states where Congregational churches are in every town. My Thanksgiving traditions have come from many different places. Chief among my thanksgiving prayers, however, are prayers for my life having been blessed by indigenous people, who have taught me a great deal about the truth of our shared history.

It has been seven years since Rev. Norman Blue Coat died. His funeral was in November. Norman was such an incredible leader in the Dakota Association. He never missed a funeral. He was always there for those who were grieving. He put more miles on more cars that barely ran. He never lost his sense of humor, no matter how hard times got. Norman would sit quietly listening through hours of meetings and then, as the meeting was winding down, say a few words that were filled with so much wisdom, vision, and humor that we all sat up and took notice. I miss him. I’m glad I was fortunate to know him.

Many mornings, I linger for a few minutes in a chair by the fireplace and wrap myself in a blanket for my early prayers. That blanket, a Bemidgi Trade Blanket, came from a give away. Many of the quilts and other blankets have been passed on to others, but that one has remained in our family. It helps me remember many indigenous people who have shaped my life, Ray and Rose and others too many to name.

I am constantly telling stories about Byron, the gentle quiet lay pastor who simply and carefully served his people with gardens and chickens and a wind generator and a quilting project and the horses. Byron had such patience with horses, and with the people who learned from him how to work with them. It was Byron who invited me to inipi, and shared its cleansing ceremonies with me.

Matt tried so hard to teach me Lakota words and concepts. I was such a poor student. But he always had a joke and a laugh. Covid ended his life, but nothing can take his presence from those who loved him.

there are so many other stories - too many for the words of this essay. My experience is vastly different from the Pilgrims of the Mayflower. Like them, however, my life has been enriched by the generous gifts and the wisdom of the elders of the indigenous people of this land. Before the feast, my Thanksgiving begins with prayers of gratitude for having met so many descendants of the first inhabitants of this land.