Remembering

On Thanksgiving morning, I was bustling about getting ready to head over to my parents' house for the big meal and a day spent with relatives. As I was rinsing off a bunch of celery for the Crunchy Pear and Celery Salad, my meager contribution to the great feast, I noticed a car pulling up in front of my neighbor's house.

Esther is a sweet, elderly widow who still lives on her own. Her husband passed away over 20 years ago and they never had children. She has a niece and nephew, so I guessed that perhaps the person in front of her house was a relative, there to pick her up and take her to a family gathering. However, the young man that walked up to her front door was carrying styrofoam containers - the fixings for a Thanksgiving meal, presumably. As he stood waiting on the stoop, hot tears welled up in my eyes.

It was great that someone had remembered to bring her a meal, but the thought of having to eat Thanksgiving dinner alone made a lump form in my throat. (And I will admit to thinking, That could be me someday!) I wondered if another person would fit around my parents' tables. One year, their neighbor - also an elderly woman - joined in on our family festivities. My eyes landed on the pumpkin bread a friend and I had made the night before. It was the perfect reason to go over to talk to her.

By the time I went over, she had finished eating and was getting ready for a Thanksgiving Day nap. She was thankful for the bread, and has told me on more than one occasion that she no longer bakes, so she savors any homemade treats she gets. "That pumpkin fudge you brought over lasted me over a week; I only had a small piece every day." I didn't invite her to my parents' house because I knew what her answer would be. I just wanted to let her know that I was thinking of her, that I remembered her.

It's actually pretty sad how many people spend holidays alone. And sadder yet that they spend a majority of their ordinary days alone. Our society doesn't tend to value the elderly and needy people. Even those that do value them seem to forget about them most of the time. I know I can do more, but even a cup of water given in Jesus' name goes a lot further than I realize. So maybe a few pieces of pumpkin bread do, too?

This is the time of year we celebrate the incarnation; Jesus came to sleep under the stars he created. And he came for the broken and the needy people, the hurting and the lost. He came to make all sad things untrue. Since we are his body, isn't it fitting that we remember the broken, needy, hurting and lost during Advent season? (And every season.)