Now Thank We All Our God
There are no autumn leaves, no pumpkin spice lattes or pilgrim costumes. There are lovely people and fresh seasonal fruits and a brilliant array of cheery capulanas. There is Thanksgiving, here, in Mozambique. source unknown When I look back at last year's Thanksgiving post , I am reminded of what a wide-eyed wonderer I was; suddenly immersed in a new culture, everything around me new and strange. Now, I still wonder, but at very different things. The jarring externals are mostly commonplace to me now, and I pass them by without a second glance. I think that, this Thanksgiving, I have an understanding of those long-ago Pilgrim folk that I've never had before. Like them, I have put out tentative, tenacious little roots into a land new and strange. I have worried obsessively over befriending the people of a foreign culture. I have tried and failed, and tried again. My admiration for the Pilgrims' courage and determination rises as I experience a small po...