Appreciate the Thanksgiving table

Editor’s note: This column is being reprinted from Nov. 26, 2004. Many of us have experienced what Jack did, making the progression from the little kids’ table all the way to the big table. Regardless of what table you sit at this weekend, be thankful for those with whom you get to share your holiday meal.

It was a typical Ronald family Thanksgiving, probably in the mid-1960s.

In those days, the clan — as many of my father’s siblings, their spouses, their children, and grandchildren as possible — gathered together for a huge celebration.

At its peak, when my grandmother was still alive, Thanksgiving was so big that a single house could barely contain it. More than once, it took over the fellowship hall of a Presbyterian church in Richmond.

Like any family gathering, this one had its traditions and its protocols. And one of those involved the seating arrangements.

There was an adults’ table. There was at least one little kids’ table. There was a big kids’ table. And some years there was a bigger kids’ table.

To move from one to another was to mark a rite of passage. But that rite of passage was more important to some than to others.

I never really gave it much thought, because my cousin John Luginbill and I were close enough in age that we made the transitions together.

For others, it was a big deal indeed.

That was the case at one memorable Thanksgiving in the mid-1960s at that church fellowship hall in Richmond.

One of our out-of-state cousins arrived with some serious expectations about the seating arrangements.

He was ready, he had decided, to make the move up the ladder. It was time for him to be seated at the big kids’ table instead of the little kids’ table.

At least that’s what he thought.

When the time came to enjoy the holiday meal, he found that the adults in charge had other ideas. His placemark was at the table for the little kids.

His reaction spoke volumes. His face reddened. He lost his temper, had a tantrum, made everyone else in the place uncomfortable, and wept. He also proved — once and for all — that he wasn’t ready for the big kids’ table just yet.

I don’t recall what the upshot of his tantrum was, whether he was squeezed in with the big kids, who were mortified by his behavior, or still relegated to be with the little kids where he could sullenly pout the afternoon away. What I do recall was learning a lesson about maturity and perspective, figuring out that some things were worth fussing about and others weren’t.

That sort of perspective helps on a day like Thursday, when you’re focusing on your blessings and your gratitude.

And it reminds me that any seat at the table with family is a good seat.

Enjoy the day. As for me, I’ll try to find a spot with the little kids if they’ll squeeze me in.