My daughter, Julia, shared her thoughts on our Thanksgiving. She is 14 and an amazing kid. I hope you enjoy.
Today, we spent the morning at our church, setting up for a big community Thanksgiving meal for 500 people. My mom made some new best friends, Kevin the ghost whisperer, he believed that he was supposed to help spirits move on. Then there was Jimmy the story teller, he told my mom about the time he was in Iceland and met Rosalind Carter. Also, Henry, who thought he met my mom at a car auction, he didn’t. Oh and the woman who heard voices.
I listened to church staff tell me about a homeless man named Crazy Larry who thought that all the rats on the streets talked to each other and told each other that “ Larry’s cool!”. I cant help but wonder sometimes, why do I go to this church? I mean, if I wanted to, I could get a ride to another church.
The answer is plain and simple, I love these crazy people. I mean I just spent two hours rolling plastic utensils into paper napkins for them!I didn’t do it because my parents told me to, no, I did it because these people are lovable. Some people would disagree, but I grew up being told to love the poor, and so I do. They have so much gratitude, it surprises me how much they are thankful for. Some people fear the poor. Why? I will never know. I have brought friends to my church who are freaked out and won’t even walk around without me.
Working for the poor is a challenge both physically and emotionally. It tears at your heart and makes you think about what you have, or have done, and why it’s them and not you. It makes you question whether or not you are selfish or deserving of what you have. But serving the poor gives me a sense of purpose, when I’m serving the poor, I know that it’s right.
This Thanksgiving, I hope people remember the poor. Instead of thinking of the easy answer and saying you are thankful for your family, or your house, think of the things you are privileged to have that others don’t. I know that this Thanksgiving I am thankful for a heated home, and a table to eat my Thanksgiving meal on.
Life, Family, Faith and Travel...the life of a Jones
Dominican Republic Missions trip
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