Wandering from a the churchyard of a medieval church on land which had once been the summer residence of the Bishop of London, this door opens from one garden to the next; onto the back garden of a rectory on the edge of London. It is tended by a woman whose love of gardens is profound and whose expertise is stunning and beneath it are the unmarked graves of medieval and Victorian clergy and prelates. It was a garden in which I spent many hours thinking about life, the church, evil and goodness. This was a door through which I went many, many times.
Today is Thanksgiving in America. My Rule of Life reminds me today (I read the chapter on Thanksgiving – out of order on this day) reminds me that I have made a promise to myself. On this day, each year, I will thank one person for having helped to heal or comfort me along this path we call life. I did that this morning with an email.
They will, I expect, be surprised that they had provided me so much comfort and indeed that at that summer in 2011 when I was in so much need of it. But so the letter is sent. My Rule also asks me in Lent to ask forgiveness, in person, of three people whom I have wronged and in Advent to ask, in person, for perspective of three people with whom I disagree on things.
What if today we not only thank God for food, but also for those people who have formed us, comforted us and offered us kindness this year?
