Gratitude, belated

November 29th, 2008

In the kitchen there is turkey and gravy and cranberry sauce and wild rice and cranberry stuffing. There are potatoes and green beans and the salad I forget to serve. There is pumpkin pie with maple syrup whipped cream and biscotti and there is cherry pie made from the last batch of the Seeland cherries I froze in the summer when they rained down on us for weeks and filled the market in front of the Bundeshaus to bursting. There is wine and beer and cranberry juice and coffee and tea.

At our table we are a Dutch and a Brit and an Aussie and two Americans and two Swiss. English is the common language but there are four mother-tongues at the table and six in all. We have enough kids for a children’s table now – we were four Americans and a German and a Swiss and all childless when we started doing this and we have enough children for a kids’ table now and the five of them have nine passports and four languages between them.

So here is my gratitude: this day. That I have found these friends, that I have made this life, that we can have this Thanksgiving dinner here at the foot of the Swiss Alps. Like we do every year.