
Thanksgiving is a time for
Camelots
"Don't let it
be forgot,
That once
there was a spot,
for one brief
shining moment
That was known
as Camelot."
Camelot! A
place, a time, a person and experience. Maybe even a feeling.
However we define it, Camelot has come to mean "the height of
something special."
And the
Thanksgiving season is a time of recalling one's Camelot or
Camelots.
Camelot:
Little children gathered around an open fire in the den, finding
expressed delights in identifying flickering flames as a
rabbit's ear, a teddy bear's foot or a barking dog.
Camelot:
Turkey served full-bodied to 20 family members, some of them
afraid the dinner bell would never ring, yet content to talk,
laugh and re-enforce love that 12 months' separation had dimmed
not one speck.
Camelot: The
grateful memory of a brother whose "one brief shining moment"
was all too short, but whose lengthening shadow continues to
cast an influence exceeding his seventeen years.
Camelot: The
beautiful ceremony dedicating a hospital chapel and pastoral
care program that reflects the seeds planted 20 years ago from a
ministry that sought to touch people both within and beyond the
walls of a single faith's traditions.
Camelot: The
tears of joy that come when greeting folks you rarely see, but
remember often as you ponder the past, grateful for their role
in your life, yet fully aware that some chapters are closed,
never to be reopened.
Camelot: The
simple things. A kitten, now a cat, whose furry, snuggling
gestures invite you to respond by gentle stroking, somehow
relieving the tension of schedule's demands. A warm cup of
coffee that stimulates the mind as it warms the body, preparing
you for the tasks ahead.
Camelot: The
grateful relief that comes when you've handled a difficult
situation well and found a way to keep folks connected with
their hearts when their warring minds threatened the greater
good.
Camelot: The
excitement that comes when you find a way to honor the past and
bring it with you into the present as you capture what was and
shape it to what you want it to be.
In his book
"Looking Homeward: Reports from the Homefront Line," my father
described life as he watched the waves break on an early morning
beach.
Wave after
wave came, reminding you that life is a parade of movement. You
can see but a glimpse of its beginning and a foretaste of its
end. And somewhere in the long line stands you, gifted of the
past, graced in the present, and granted a future by faith.
And we are
both grateful--and challenged.
Thanksgiving.
It is a time for thanking family, neighbors, friends (near and
far) for who they are and what they are helping you make of and
for yourself.
Thanksgiving.
It is a time for being grateful for our heritage, our talents,
and our ability to dream and see possibilities.
Thanksgiving.
It is a time of remembering all the Camelots, and a time for
committing to create more Camelots.


11/19/2006 The Herald-Dispatch