Giving thanks when the world is on fire

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving. Normally at this time of year I thank you, my readers, for all your support, and I am grateful for that again this year. As always, it’s a privilege to email you. I’m also grateful for all the ways that Interpreter’s subscribers are an active community: that you not only read these newsletters, but also recommend books, email me feedback, and send questions and suggestions that give me ideas for future columns.

But this year, even more than in previous years, I find that I cannot count the blessings without also counting the sorrows and fears that lurk in their shadows.

While I am grateful for this job and community, I am also grateful that I can work in safety, unlike the 53 journalists and media workers those who have died in Gaza, Israel and Lebanon since the war began, or the many others who continue to work despite constant and inescapable danger to their lives.

I am grateful that my family and I do not have to cower in a hospital or a school in the vain hope of being safe from bombs, or rely on an “iron dome” to protect us from missiles.

I’m grateful that I never had to beg my children for hours to be quiet while we hid from people trying to kill us and our neighbors in our own homes. I am grateful that I have not spent every second of the past 46 days and nights panicking about the fate of loved ones held hostage. I am grateful that my children never felt the pain of burying a beloved brother or sister. Grateful that I never had to scribble their names on their limbs in permanent marker in case I die and they are found by strangers.

I’m grateful that when my children ask me for water, I can just turn on the tap; that if they ask me for food, I can give it to them without having to risk my life hunting for it in a war zone. Grateful that if we needed a hospital, electricity and sterile equipment and supplies like anesthesia would be available.

Grateful that my children are still alive. Grateful that my husband is still alive. Thankful to be alive. Thankful that all of you reading this are still alive. But also sad and angry that we live in a world where these things are blessings to be counted, and where so many cannot.

Reader Comments: Books you recommend

Jenny Sidhu, a reader in Rocklin, California, recommends “Demon Copperhead” by Barbara Kingsolver and “Dopesick” by Beth Macy:

A beautiful double film: Demon Copperhead followed by Dopesick. Or perhaps the other way around? A deep dive into the opioid crisis, its impact on communities, and the role of Purdue Pharma. The background information and humanity depicted in these stories made me reevaluate my own position on the people living in the affected communities. An excellent and humbling example of walking in someone else’s shoes.

What are you reading?

I want to thank everyone who wrote to tell me what you’re reading. Keep the entries coming!

I’d like to hear what things you’ve read (or watched or listened to) that have had the biggest impact on you this year. What changed your view of the world?

If you want to participate, You can fill in this form. I may publish your response in a future newsletter.