8 | NOVEMBER 26 • 2020 

T

hanksgiving is going 
to be very different this 
year, and it’
s pretty 
disappointing. There’
s a part of 
my brain that makes me want 
to stomp my foot like a little 
kid and wail, “But I don’
t want
this.
” Meanwhile 
the grown-up 
part of my 
brain is trying 
to rationalize: 
“Well, that’
s life. 
Everyone’
s in the 
same boat, so 
suck it up and 
stop crying … 
and, here, have a cookie.
”
So now, the only thing that’
s 
really changed is that I don’
t 
fit into any of my clothes. 
Unfortunately, the reality is: 
This stinks! We liked the world 
better before coronavirus. We 
liked seeing people smile and 
we liked hugging people and 
eating out and not having to 
be vigilant about washing our 
hands. We liked going to sim-
chahs and theater and to the 
gym and learning or working in 
person. We miss the days when 
we’
d never heard of Zoom, had 
no idea what PPE stood for, 
and scoffed at the very idea of 

ever willingly submitting our 
nostril so that someone could 
try to scrape our brains through 
it with a knitting needle.
But with COVID cases 
on the rise, and the fear and 
uncertainty of the unknown yet 
again on our doorstop, it can 
be easy to fall into a bottomless 
pit, like the little kid who can’
t 
see anything other than what 
he doesn’
t have. There are still 
things to be grateful for these 
days, we just have to work a 
little harder to find them. For 
example:
• The usual: Family. Friends. 
Food (especially cookies). 
Online shopping. Next-day 
delivery. Clothes. A roof over 
our heads. Frontline workers. 
Teachers. Heat. Employment. 
Love. Peace. Joy. Chocolate. 
Technology. And people who 
won’
t judge me for not listing 
them in any kind of order …
• No one really enjoys wear-
ing a mask, but it can be kind 
of nice not having to worry if 
your breath smells. 
• There’
s something very 
nurturing about getting your 
temperature checked — it can 
conjure warm childhood mem-
ories. So yes, it might feel super 

weird that strangers at the bank 
or doctor’
s offices are checking 
your temp; but if you’
re allowed 
to venture inside, it means 
you’
ve cleared a health hurdle 
… And these days that’
s noth-
ing to sneeze at. 
• Have you ever stepped 
inside someone’
s house and 
been told, “Please excuse my 
mess,
” but, as far as you can see, 
it’
s perfectly tidy, kind of intim-
idatingly perfect and a far cry 
from your own “lived-in” look? 
Well, the good news is, thanks 
to social distancing, those peo-
ple aren’
t coming over to my 
place any time soon. 
• Super grateful that the 
elections are behind us (even 
though it doesn’
t really feel that 
way). I’
m grateful that all those 
texts, calls and pounds of junk 
mail telling me and all the pre-
vious home owners who to vote 
for have stopped. 
• The cold — it has some 
perks. Now it’
s I-can-drink-
the-water-I-left-in-the-car-
overnight season!
• While things keep chang-
ing, and the unknown is scary 
… at least we’
re still here, and at 
least we’
re not turkeys!
Happy Thanksgiving! 

Rochel 

Burstyn
Contributing 
Writer

VIEWS

for openers
Feeling Grateful 
During a Pandemic

YIDDISH LIMERICK

On Thanksgiving a shaynem 
 dahnk we’
ll say 
Far alle gutte zakhn, nisht ein, 
 nisht tzvay.
 Far shayninke kinderlakh
 Far ingalakh un maydalakh
And alle gutte zakhn that come 
 your way.

shaynem dahnk: a nice thank 
you
Far alle gutte zakhn, nisht ein, 
nisht tzvay: For all good things, 
not one, not two 
Far shayninke kinderlakh: For 
beautiful kids 
Far ingalakh un maydalakh: For 
little boys and girls
Alle gotte zakhn: all good things.

By Rachel Kapen

Thanksgiving

