Turkey Day is once again upon us.
In America, this centuries-old holiday has always been observed, at the risk of sounding heretic, in a much broader if not universal fashion by people of all faiths and colors, of every nationality and persuasion, of every race and orientation, its observance transcending the barriers of politics and religion, its celebrants bound together by a single motivation: to express gratitude for one’s blessings.
As this corner has pontificated quite a bit over the years, the Thanksgiving holiday, despite its semi-religious symbolism of families praying together over abundant food offerings on the table, has its roots in the secular concept of migration.
Indeed, history books are replete with accounts indicating that the very first Thanksgiving feast was held by a group of immigrants from England during the 17th century in the present-day Massachusetts, with some historians attributing the occasion to the Plymouth colonists’ celebrating their initial harvest in the New World.
Others credit the holiday’s origin to the English pilgrims’ celebration of the Mayflower’s arrival at Cape Cod.
Whatever the true genesis of the holiday, a few stories highlight the presence of a local Indian tribe (Wampanoag) during the historic event, offering fresh venison to the new arrivals, betokening the beginning of trust and cooperation, fragile and short-lived as this was, between the English immigrants and the land’s original occupants, the Native Americans.
Throughout the centuries, every Thanksgiving celebration has had its unique moods and spirits, whether subdued or lively, merry or sad, like being enervated by the wartime miseries of the forties and sixties, or muffled by the tragic events of 09/11/2001.
Conversely, vibrant merrymaking defined the holiday celebrations of the booming fifties and the roaring eighties, as moral victories and economic prosperities lifted the spirits of a grateful nation.
Fast forward to November 2025. What, for amusement’s sake, is the Thanksgiving mood of the day? Is it thankful or is it mournful? Joyous or acrimonious? Ebullient or despondent?
It all depends on one’s personal circumstances. Or perspective.
Thus, to families of undocumented immigrants, giving thanks at a time when their lives have been turned upside down smacks of a warped hypocrisy, like adding insult to injury. But for those who are able to obtain benefit approvals despite the narrowing immigration pathways in the country, every positive decision warbles a sweet melody of victory.
For Democrats and their supporters, winning the last elections in a bluish kind of wave catapults them to the apogee of cloud nine. For MAGA Republicans and their followers, getting trashed at the ballot box is no excuse for throwing tantrums like shunned leprechauns—the reins of power remain in their hands.
To the war-weary Jewish people, getting the hostages back with hostilities abating is like manna from heaven. For the Hamas terrorists, no sense in being grateful without feeling remorseful.
To the bombed-out Ukrainians, any peace plan, even a half-baked one, is a miracle. For the Russians, any outcome short of Ukraine’s total capitulation is a debacle.
Lastly, to the typhoon-ravaged, scandal-rocked Filipinos, no Pinoy Thanksgiving celebrations until all the flood control malefactors are imprisoned. As for the kickback megalodons, since prison life beckons with no turkey bacon, it would be a travesty of reality for them to say: Happy Turkey Day.