It doesn't add up. No, not the presents purchased versus the anxiety-inducing budget. Rather, the sense of wonder and welcoming lost in a commercialized rebranding of a simple season.

 

A new tradition emerged the Sunday before Thanksgiving in the children's classroom. The Bread Service brought us together simply in gratitude and remembrance. (November's theme was memory.) Bread was shaped and baked. Table setting was intentional, a ritual. Grasses, berries and Russian sage skeletons were gathered for centerpieces. Grace was said. Then, we broke bread.

From Soul Matters Theme-Based Ministry:

"The Bread Service provides a lens for the theme of being a people of memory by remembering and sharing bread passed down through the generations in the various cultures and ethnicities. It also removes the stigma of oppression that surrounds Thanksgiving, allowing the holiday to become a time of remembrance and gratitude for all heritages and ethnicities."

 

The holidays are hard. For many of us this is the time we most feel the absence of those gone before us. A simple affordable tradition we practice is cutting down a tree ($8 with a permit from the Forest Service). The five of us wander the forest looking for the tree, sometimes quibbling over which tree. Last year, the top broke off when the tree hit the ground (one tree per permit). "That's what the star's for," I said, "let's go." I never would have said this in years past. I also released control over stringing the tree lights. Miraculously, my husband joined in the decorating. This is not a coincidence. 

 

I am grateful for letting go this season. Letting go of how it has to be or how it's always been. Letting go of pretending to be happy in moments when I'm sad. Letting go of the learned pressure my mother put on herself. Letting go of perfection. Letting go of consumerism and welcoming connection. As a people of faith, where we make space for the sacredness of slowing down matters. The earth embraces rest this time of year, how can we?