The first Thanksgiving as best I can figure out was all about food. Not the processed, packaged, gourmet epicurious.com variety. No, I mean food. Basic, simple food — whatever was successfully harvested, hunted, or gathered.
More, the first Thanksgiving was about the sharing of food. It was about the hungry winter to come. It was about survival.
I am thirty-eight years old and I have never gone hungry a single day. I tell my children that we are wealthy beyond the kings and queens of old, beyond today’s 1% financial elite.
On this day of Thanksgiving, I raise my glass to each of you in fervent prayer: “May you never hunger. May you never thirst.”