I’m not yet feeling 1979 malaise vibes, but times are certainly tough.
Shopping for groceries has become uncomfortably expensive. I didn’t anticipate how high energy costs would be this year. The cost of needs is pushing wants off the list altogether.
Yet there’s still so much to give thanks for.
I’m thankful for friends who check in, friends who understand when you’re silent, friends who pick you up for an impromptu coffee date. This year I’m also thankful for new friendships, including with my colleague Fizza, who has lived in the United States for only a few months. She’s a veteran educator with 15 years of teaching at top-notch schools in India, and she’s transitioned well to life in Texas. Sometimes I even forget that she’s adjusting to a new country.
On the morning of our school’s first pep rally this fall, I was checking to see if she understood the procedure for getting her sixth graders to the gym for the big event. She talked through the instructions and then paused to ask one question.
“What exactly is a pep rally?”
I am thankful that I get to glimpse our traditions through her eyes and that she shares specific details about life in India (where there are no pep rallies but there are many more late-night dining opportunities).
I am thankful for mostly normal social conditions after we were reconditioned during COVID-19. Concerts are back, and this year I was able to attend two. I had almost forgotten the joy of belting out a favorite song along with 2,500 other fans.
The rhythm of worship services in the sanctuary has returned, though I have the option to watch at home on Sunday mornings when I need more rest. I feel comfortable shopping at real stores, though I embrace the option to shop online, too.
I needed to restock some of my makeup, so one of my best friends joined me for a Saturday afternoon visit to a cosmetics counter. While I appreciate the convenience of clicking and paying online, sometimes I need to see colors in person, and I appreciate advice from experts. Our saleslady was an energetic 74-year-old with flawless skin who shared some of her life story — born and raised in Louisiana, most of adulthood in San Francisco, “retirement” in Texas. She’s a natural performer who once protested with hippies and today appreciates Prada handbags.
How fortunate we are to be reunited with strangers, to ask questions and to listen to their stories.
I am thankful for those who stand in the gap for people in need.
My middle school has been collecting nonperishable food for our local food bank and cash from students to help other students in the district who aren’t otherwise guaranteed a gift this Christmas. My friend Liz Watkins and her volunteers and donors, through the nonprofits Refresh Frisco and Refresh Little Elm, continue to provide hygiene products to kids in need. The North Texas Food Bank, celebrating its 40th anniversary this year, provides tens of millions of meals every year for people in 13 counties.
Nonprofits rely on our help year-round, but I do love that people who have more than they need find extra ways to share during this Thanksgiving and Christmas season — parents who are generous with their own children and with strangers, grocery shoppers who round up to the nearest dollar to support a charity, families who shop for families they’ll never meet.
My memories of 1979 are at once crisp and fuzzy. I recall long lines of panicked drivers at gas pumps. I remember the Iranian hostage crisis that would endure for 444 days. I remember becoming aware of generic foods compared with name brands.
I was too young to look for the helpers, for the people who were working behind the scenes to make sure that people in need had adequate food and housing, for the people who were offering English as a second language classes, for the people who were welcoming refugees and tutoring children and visiting the lonely.
I am thankful for those heroes from decades past and the heroes of the 21st century who offer resources and comfort, friendship and love.
Tyra Damm is a Briefing columnist. She can be reached at tyradamm@gmail.com.