Editor’s note: In the spirit of Thanksgiving, our readers wrote to us to share what they’re grateful for. We are publishing the remainder of their letters today. And we on the Tribune opinion team also want to offer our thoughts.
What stands out
It’s always the little things that matter and that we need more of those these days.
More Top Picks Best Power Wheelchair Ramps For Home Entry
I am thankful for drivers who give you a break and for the ones who give a friendly wave when you accommodate them. I am more thankful for those who drive safely and think of others.
I am thankful for clerks and receptionists who are pleasant and kind. I am thankful for all the delivery folks who leave packages and especially for the newspaper carrier who leaves my paper right near the house.
I am thankful to get a live person on the phone to answer my business or medical questions. I am thankful for the shoppers who let you cut in line if you only have a few items. I am thankful for people who say “please,” “thank you” and “excuse me.”
On a loftier level, I am thankful for the sun that rises, the rains that quench, the earth that provides our daily bread, as well as the farmers who toil endlessly through the growing season. This is why we celebrate the harvest.
I am thankful for those who do not live their lives with hate and resentment.
In closing, I am thankful for those who keep peace in their hearts and hope alive.
— Cynthia Marks, Palos Park
For all who help us
Thank you for our trash and recycling pickup. For our mail, package and newspaper deliveries. For all the people who work outside in all kinds of weather to maintain, repair and build. For our library and for curious people. For kids who challenge us and think of others besides themselves.
For everyone who smiles before I do!
— Jelmir Atkins, Sycamore, Illinois
Our ‘night angels’
For the first time in my eight decades of life, I called for an ambulance for myself. It was nothing crucial, but I was facing a long night of pain and sleeplessness. Within minutes, two very professional paramedics showed up at my door, bundled me onto a stretcher and whisked me into the waiting ambulance. I felt better already. It was early evening, crispy cool, and a bright moon seemed to light our way. The wailing siren sounded like a lullaby to me.
I was wheeled into a very large and busy emergency room at a local hospital. “Room” is a misnomer because it actually looked like a little city unto itself. The overhead lights were bright but not glaring, stretchers went here and there in orderly fashion, and doctors and nurses scurried about holding clipboards and small flashlights.
This “little city” had one goal: to help the next suffering person. I heard soft talking and sometimes a bit of laughter. And yes, there was the occasional groan or whimper.
Finally, the flap of my “little tent” opened, and a doctor came inside to hear my story. Within minutes, a nurse administered medication by way of a tube in my arm. I was in pain no longer and eventually received the good news that I could return home with a prescription and a treatment plan.
By midnight, I was in my own bed sound asleep. But not before sending up a prayer for the “night angels” in that hospital, and all over the world, who staff emergency rooms and whose unseen heroism is known only to God.
— Kathleen Melia, Niles
I have my life back
For the last four months of 2024, I suffered intractable pain due to a deteriorating left hip. I had pretty much become a recluse, as the thought of showering, dressing and getting in and out of a car was more than I could handle. The earliest my surgeon could schedule the replacement hip was mid-December.
I was 83, and the first few days after surgery were rough, but I made a remarkably quick recovery and needed only five to six weeks of physical therapy. I told my surgeon that he “gave me back my life.”
For the last 11 months, I have been 100% pain-free and able to return to my previous life with no restrictions. For that, I am eternally thankful.
— Arlene Davis, Highland Park
Existence is a gift
The 17th century French philosopher René Descartes provided us with reason’s one certainty: “I think, therefore I am.” Consciousness affirms existence. But from that tiny island of certainty, the larger mystery begins. If we exist, what triggered the initial spark? Was it chance, necessity or design? The answer remains out of reach.
Still, our presence here is astonishing. Against nearly impossible odds, we are alive and acutely aware of it. Some call that awareness divine, rooting their hope in faith. Others find wonder in the cosmos itself, vast and unfeeling but no less sublime. However we explain it, one truth endures: Existence itself is a gift.
Our lives are brief, our awareness fragile, yet the simple fact of being is extraordinary. We spend our days searching for meaning, for proof that life matters beyond its limits. But perhaps that search overlooks a significant point. We don’t need eternity to make life meaningful. The miracle has already taken place.
Every thought, every breath, is evidence that the universe once said yes.
— Scott T. Thompson, Bloomington, Indiana
A tale of 2 feasts
I have fond memories of Thanksgiving in Chicago. My parents mastered the dance between the mothers-in-law with grace. (Our grandpas passed away before I knew them.)
Of the six kids in the family, three were girls, and three were boys.
On Thanksgiving Day, we would load into the Ford station wagon from our Evanston home. Dad would drop Mom and the girls off at my mom’s mother (we called her Eye-Eye) at her apartment on the 43rd floor of the then-chic Marina City.
After visiting Eye-Eye in her compact studio apartment, we took the elevator down to the Captain’s Table restaurant at the Chicago River level. From our window table, we would watch the bridges raise for late-returning sailboats while dining on turkey, cranberry sauce and kiddie cocktails
The boys, on the other hand, would head to my dad’s mom’s (Nana) apartment in the South Shore neighborhood for her homemade Thanksgiving feast, which they relished. After dinner, Dad and the boys would meet us for nighttime ice skating at Marina City.
I’ve always thought the girls got the better deal. But then I never tasted Nana’s turkey.
— Mary Ann O’Rourke, Barrington
Thanksgiving’s joys
What’s to like about Thanksgiving? The answer is actually quite easy. For one thing, it’s the highlight of the autumn season and a great jump-start to the upcoming holidays.
What’s more, it’s a perfect excuse for gathering together with old friends and family, some of whom we will see at only this time of year.
It’s also the best meal we’ll experience since last Thanksgiving. In fact, just the thought of roast turkey with all the trimmings, followed by a generous slice of pumpkin pie, excites my taste buds like nothing else.
Even more importantly, Thanksgiving is a time of remembrance and renewal as we pay tribute to the people who are no longer with us but whose presence on this festive occasion will live in our hearts always.
— Bob Ory, Elgin
Timeless traditions
Thanksgiving is like that beloved old book we take down from the shelf every so often to reread. Although we know the passages by heart, we still find them so very comforting.
More Top Picks Best Premium Bluetooth Speakers For Home
The best part of the holiday is its rich traditions that remain timeless. Unlike other national celebrations that have been compromised by modern interpretation and commercialism, Thanksgiving remains consistent in embracing the past while also maximizing the entertainment value of the present.
I can’t possibly imagine a November that doesn’t include a gathering of family and friends to share priceless memories as well as a mutual love for one another on the most festive occasion of the year. And that, quite simply, is what Thanksgiving means to me.
— Earl Lee, Elgin
The gift of time
This year, I am particularly thankful for the gift of time. I finally retired in the spring (at age 75). Now I can spend as much time as I want out in nature, which is a balm for my spirit. I have been enjoying fall. The late sunrises no longer matter; I can stay out longer instead of rushing to work after a brief outing, so I have seen more of the migrating birds than in previous years.
And I have plenty of time to read the newspaper and books.
I’ll be celebrating Thanksgiving Day with friends, for whom I am also grateful!
— Ann Harness, Highland Park
Opinion team thanks
When the longtime arts editor and critic Tony Adler died earlier this month, I realized that Chicago had lost three of its best arts writers and editors within a year’s time. It was not a large group to begin with.
Along with Adler, a mainstay at the Chicago Reader but also a regular freelancer for the Tribune, the other losses include Jack Helbig, who wrote about culture for publications all over town, and Kris Vire, who was most associated first with Time Out Chicago and then the Tribune’s Chicago magazine.
All deaths come too soon, but these losses were all shocking and all men I hoped would have lived much longer.
All three of them loved Chicago theater, comedy and performance, which has meant so much to me all these years. All three of them were deeply curious journalists and reporters as well as critics.
They all were very good at finding stories. I know. I had to compete with them. All three were unflinchingly honest with their readers and unafraid to call out mediocrity. But their prose lit up the most when they found something in Chicago they loved.
As is often the case with journalists who write often, you don’t realize how much you enjoyed reading them until they are gone.
So a toast this Thanksgiving to Jack, Kris and Tony and, of course, to their families.
Thanks, gentlemen, for lifetimes of work that ennobled others.
— Chris Jones, editorial page editor
We read and hear a lot about what’s wrong with Chicago and Illinois at the Tribune opinion section. But on this Thanksgiving, I wish to express some gratitude for the beauty and resilience of our corner of the world. I love living near Lake Michigan. I love the change of seasons. I love the soul-stirring architecture. And I love the people of Chicago. You all showed the rest of the country what grit and care for your fellow human beings should look like during the rough weeks of Operation Midway Blitz.
On a personal note, I’m grateful to have the opportunity to partake at least in some small way in the great debate underway about the future of Chicago. I know from personal experience that cities — like people — go through ups and downs.
Keep the faith! Happy Thanksgiving.
— Steve Daniels, editorial board member
I am thankful for my children, who fill my life with love and laughter. For my husband, who I trust and love with all my heart. For my health, something I no longer take for granted. I’m thankful for friends and a community who take me as I am, and for Chicagoans’ and suburbanites’ unfailing kindness.
And finally, I’m grateful to be even a small part of this newspaper and the work we do here every day.
— Hilary Gowins, editorial board member
I am thankful for the life of my grandma, Ethel McLuen, who passed away earlier this year. Her example of service and commitment to her family and community inspires me to do better each day. She dedicated her adult life to working with disabled children and adults in the St. Louis area and alongside my grandpa started an organization that now serves hundreds of people every year.
Despite enduring so much in life, my grandmother drew from a seemingly never-ending well of compassion and rarely gave into apathy. I treasure her memory.
I hope you and your loved ones, whatever you may be going through, have a happy Thanksgiving.
— Grace Miserocchi, opinion editor
Gregg Krech, a teacher of the Japanese practice of self-reflection known as Naikan, said that “to live a life of gratitude is to open our eyes to the countless ways in which we are supported by the world around us.” It’s in times of crisis, especially, when those ways are illuminated. I can’t possibly name here all the people who helped my sister Rose and me in some way when we were tasked with getting a handle on our sister Loretta’s affairs after she suffered a stroke and was hospitalized late last year and after she died in January.
Kindness came in many forms. A friend listening quietly to me in her dining room while I unburdened myself and cried. That same friend picking up Loretta’s mail each day. Relatives and family friends making sure Loretta had visitors during the week so she wasn’t alone. My great aunt buying me lunch in the hospital cafeteria and swapping war stories with me about family. My cousins calling to check on me. Friends and neighbors texting, “How are you doing? How’s your sister?” A friend dropping off a big tray of food at my home. Friends and colleagues driving for more than an hour in Chicago evening traffic to attend my sister’s wake in Indiana. The manager of my sister’s bank opening up about his own brother because he intuitively understood I needed someone to be human with me as I sat there with death certificate in hand.
If we ever feel as if there aren’t things to be grateful for, we may just need to look more closely at the kindness all around us.
— Colleen Kujawa, opinion editor
Submit a letter, of no more than 400 words, to the editor here or email [email protected].