Thanksgiving is always an exciting holiday for me and my family. We take time off of work and school and pack up our car for the long haul (not that long of a haul after spending 31 hours straight on a public bus, but. . .) to Chicago. It’s snowing and we complain about the traffic, but it’s beautiful watching everything turn white and dreamy. And I secretly like playing eye spy, even though I roll my eyes and pretend to be uninterested. We reach our destination and my aunt runs out to give me a big squeeze, squealing, ready to update me on everything I’ve missed while we’ve been away from each other. The girls start cooking and the babies pretend to play with their food on the kitchen floor. The boys watch football and come into the kitchen to “taste test” and grab a beer. We all play cards, watch movies and exchange funny stories. It’s the typical American thanksgiving with the people I love + lots of pumpkin pie. This year I’m in the Philippines for the Holidays without those people. My family is going on with their traditions and my friends are coming home from college and reuniting. I’m 13 hours ahead, filipinos don’t celebrate Thanksgiving, and I don’t have internet so I don’t know if I’ll even be able to talk to them when they are all together. It’s hard to watch life go on for them without me and it’s easy to feel alone around the holidays. But I’m not alone at all, not in the slightest. I’m trading the Thanksgiving day parade for feeding hungry kids in Tacloban. Not the kind of hungry we refer to when we haven’t eaten in an hour or two, or when we’re waiting to cut into the turkey. Children who don’t get to eat every day, children who have smiles on their faces but hunger in their eyes. When they pull on my clothes and ask where I come from I tell them America. They gasp, exchanging looks with one another and continue to tell me I’m lucky, or sometimes ask me to take them with me. It’s not a guilt trip. I’m not going to go home next year and feel guilty about buying a new outfit on Black Friday or grabbing food from McDonald’s. It just puts things into perspective and makes me realize how crazy good my life is, even when I don’t feel like it. I am blessed beyond belief and I get to spend the next 3 months doing what I can for the people here and show them love. I’m blessed to have made probably some of the closest friends I will ever have and work next to them every day. I’m blessed to have a family who loves me and will miss me when my seat is empty tomorrow. I am going to miss my little brother waking me up at an ungodly hour on Christmas morning, and taking naps with my mom on snow days. But I am happy to be making some kind of a difference and to me that is worth every sacrifice. To my friends in the USA, hug your mommas and eat some mashed potatoes for me. Happy thanksgiving xo
