Sometimes, Life Is Like a Box of Chocolates . . .

by Ellen Newman

The Guest List
We had a special Thanksgiving dinner last year, one we will always remember—because of our wonderful guests. Many members of our family, for various reasons, could not spend the holiday with us this time. Although we would miss them, we realized we now had room at the table for eight more people, and this gave us the opportunity to ask friends and family who had been on our invitation wish list. The possibilities seemed almost endless, and it was difficult to know where to start!

First, I called a cousin I can never invite because she, her widowed father, husband, children, and grandchild together number seven people. She was thrilled to get our invitation but had already planned to make an informal dinner for her family, especially since her grandson is only 15 months old and would have had difficulty sitting through a big dinner. Next on the list was my cousin and her family in Maryland, but she had been invited to her in-laws’ house. After all those years of wishing we had room to include more family members, we found they all had other plans. Yet we were not ready to accept the possibility of a small Thanksgiving dinner.

Our usual holiday table is set for 14 people, and with last-minute guests, we sometimes are forced to squeeze 15, even 16, around our table. At full capacity, the chairs at the head and foot of the table almost touch the dining room walls. It’s not ideal, but we never want to turn anyone away. But now it looked as though our 19-pound turkey would be a bit too much for seven people. Because I am an eternal optimist, I remained unfazed, even somewhat pleased. Not only did our family members have places to go for Thanksgiving, but I no longer had to carry any guilt for not inviting all of them in the past. Even more important, I still had in mind some other people, some friends, I wanted to invite.

In addition to our immediate family of three (husband Neil, 21-year-old daughter Dana, and me) and mother-in-law Harriett, our celebration included Dana’s best friend, Lina—a regular at our Thanksgiving dinner table for many years, as her family celebrates Thanksgiving on a different day—and Dana’s boyfriend, Eduardo, who was visiting from Brazil. Dana and Eduardo had met and begun dating earlier this year in Lyon, France. She was attending Université Lumière II as part of University of Pennsylvania's Study Abroad program, and Eduardo was completing an internship in Lyon in conjunction with his university. This was Eduardo’s first trip to the United States, as well as his first American Thanksgiving. (Brazil instituted the National Day of Thanksgiving—Dia de Ação de Graças—in 1949, at the suggestion of Joaquim Nabuco, the first ambassador from Brazil to the United States from 1905 to 1910, who observed Thanksgiving in Washington. In Brazil, however, Thanksgiving is meant more for Americans living in Brazil than as a holiday for Brazilians.)

Thanksgiving dinner: Dana and Ellen in foreground, then clockwise: Eduardo, Lina, Hetal, Amish, Thomas, Neil, Michael and Olga, Harriett, Sheri, and cousin Michael.

Another guest was Thomas, who arrived here from China in 2009 to get his M.B.A. degree. We met and became friends when I was assigned to be his conversation partner as a component of my coursework at Arcadia University, where I received a master’s degree in elementary education and a second certification as an ESL (English as a second language) specialist. He has come to our Thanksgiving dinner table ever since.

Hetal and her husband, Amish, graciously accepted our invitation, as well. I met Hetal in 2008, also while I was getting my degree in education. We happened to be sitting next to each other in class and signed up to work on a presentation together. To my amazement, Hetal told me she had come here from India only three weeks before class began. We became good friends, even though Hetal is closer in age to my daughter than she is to me (as is Thomas).

Rounding out our table were two cousins who live in Philadelphia and spend other holidays with us but usually go elsewhere for Thanksgiving.

Interpreters at Ellis Island, 1909: Edward L. Newman, third from left, facing the camera, with black bow tie. The arrow at top left points to Fiorello LaGuardia, a fellow translator who later become mayor of New York (from Barry Moreno, The Illustrated Encyclopedia of Ellis Island, credit: National Park Service).

Because all of the guests knew me but not necessarily each other, we had some interesting “let’s get acquainted” conversations. This was a welcome change from our usual holiday dinner conversations, which inevitably turn to politics and often become heated. Instead, we talked about Thanksgiving customs and whether or not Thanksgiving is celebrated in other countries (see Links below). I enjoyed showing my friends some family photos, including a picture of my grandfather, who came here alone, at age 13, and later became a translator at Ellis Island. This sharing underscored how much we have in common: We are a nation of immigrants, grateful for the life we have in America, whether we came here recently, or more than 125 years ago, as my grandfather had. I am thankful that my grandfather came to America so that I could lead a better life than the one he left in Hungary. And we were thankful to be sharing this cherished time with family and friends. That’s what Thanksgiving is all about.

LINKS

Wikipedia: Thanksgiving
6 Thanksgiving Celebrations Around the World
Harvest Festivals Around the World: Thanksgiving
How Thanksgiving Works
The World Loves American-Grown Thanksgiving Food

Ellen Newman, an Associate Editor at