Every holiday has a story and Thanksgiving is no different. Holiday celebrations are typically a family get-together, where excessive food and merriment or getting reacquainted with seldom-seen family members plays a central role in enjoying the day.
Many families have traditions, too, depending on the holiday in question. One of our family traditions every holiday is the opening of party crackers. Inside is a prize of questionable use, a hat or crown made out of paper, and a funny riddle or joke.
At Thanksgiving, grandma started a wreath of thanks. Name cards at the table are turned over and everyone is asked to complete the sentence, “I am thankful for … ”. Before announcing what we are thankful for, we reflect on the tags from last year. Our gratitude statements often reflect highlights of the year. The twins had a unique expression of thanks this year.
Their Aunt Marie brought a special guest to Thanksgiving dinner. Part of her varied interests includes the plight of the great apes. Several years ago now, she travelled to the Democratic Republic of Congo to see gorillas in the wild. It was a childhood dream come true and her excitement was shared with a local tracker. His name is Dominique Bikaba, but he is affectionally known as Simba. At the time, he confessed his dream of coming to Canada and this year he was able to join our family for his first Canadian Thanksgiving.
The girls have added messages to their aunt’s emails to Simba but it was their special individual birthday cards that he had not forgotten although it was months ago. He brought two hand-carved gorillas for the girls. There was also a card of thanks for money Alexis received as a Christmas present to purchase a laying hen for the women in the village where Simba lives. Over dinner, he talked with them about his work, and he was amazed at their retention of facts, recently learned on a school trip to the zoo.
Once it came time for their message of thanks, Simba’s trip to Canada was part of what made the twin’s thankful this year. After a dinner fit for kings and the paper crowns were folded neatly, a few presents were exchanged and a little sight-seeing between our farm and papa’s took place.
For the first time, our African guest petted a horse. He had seen pictures, but never touched the soft muzzle of a horse’s nose. Photos were taken of apple trees that seemed to bend over backwards, laden with fruit too ripe for use. Bikes and clothes, 4-wheelers and farm equipment that we take as givens were viewed as items of wealth and good fortune. His five children would be entertained when he came home with pictures of their dad experiencing a world and place as unfamiliar to them, as their world would be to us.
Later in the afternoon, we met again at Erin Fall Fair, where Simba rode an amusement ride and played a mid-way game. As we marveled at his gratitude and sense of wonderment at what we consider normal, a part of us had a sense of embarrassment bordering on sheepish shame.
How does an obviously intelligent man view this strange world where people pay money to spin until dizzy on a ride? Or, in the case of a fishing game, where “you win a prize every time” dangling a magnetic hook into a plastic fish’s mouth – only to receive a stuffed toy of no consequence, knowing that the money spent on that silly game would have gone a long way back at home.
Perhaps it was best said in his observance of a demolition derby earlier that same weekend. As vehicles were smashed into ruin, in what enthusiasts of that sport viewed as tons of fun, he lamented to Aunt Marie in a soft voice that they would be happy for those old cars in Africa.
One part of us would still like to ask Simba about what his take was on our outing, but deep down we know the answer to our own question. We North Americans are living a fantasy, whose sense of entitlement knows no bounds and does not seem to be waning any time soon.
Along with thanks for my wife, Luiza, daughters Alexis and Brooke, and family, we are very thankful for being reminded by a guest how lucky and fortunate we are here in Canada. I am also thankful that our paper crowns are on the way to Africa so that Simba’s children might play as kings – even if for a short time.
