For the big holidays like Christmas and Thanksgiving, we always

The words of Steve Doocy—“For the big holidays like Christmas and Thanksgiving, we always have turkey.”—seem simple at first glance, yet they reveal something profound about the human heart and its hunger for tradition. They remind us that the great festivals of life are not celebrated only with prayers and songs, but with the table, the feast, the shared meal that unites families in body and spirit. The turkey is not merely food; it is a symbol of constancy, of memory, of the bonds that tie generations together. In every roasted bird served at the table, there is the echo of countless gatherings past, and the promise that the circle of family endures.

The ancients, too, understood the sacred role of food in ritual and remembrance. The Greeks offered sacrifices of animals and grain to honor the gods, then shared the feast in unity. The Hebrews remembered their deliverance with the Passover lamb, a meal both symbolic and sustaining. In Rome, the banquet was not only a celebration of plenty, but also a reaffirmation of loyalty to family and state. In every age, to eat together was to affirm belonging. Doocy’s words echo this eternal truth: the holiday meal is more than nourishment—it is an anchor for the soul.

History bears this out in vivid detail. Consider the first Thanksgiving of 1621, when Pilgrims and Native Americans shared a feast of wild fowl, venison, corn, and other fruits of the land. Though not precisely the same as our modern meal, it established the pattern: that gratitude for life and survival was best expressed by sharing food with family and neighbor. Over time, the turkey became the centerpiece of this ritual, not because it was the only dish, but because it came to embody abundance, celebration, and togetherness. Thus, what Doocy speaks of as habit is in truth the living inheritance of centuries of practice.

The meaning of his words also lies in the power of repetition. “We always have turkey,” he says, and in that “always” is the heart of tradition. It is the assurance that in a world of change, some things endure. Children grow, elders pass on, and circumstances shift, but when the great holidays arrive, the familiar aroma of the bird in the oven reminds all that family remains, that love continues, and that the roots of belonging are deep. Rituals like these bind generations, giving comfort to the young and memory to the old.

But there is also a deeper truth hidden here: traditions are not only about food, but about identity. Families that gather for turkey at Christmas and Thanksgiving affirm that they are not merely individuals, but part of something larger than themselves. The feast becomes a sacrament of unity, where quarrels are forgotten, laughter is shared, and bonds are renewed. In this way, the holiday table becomes a sacred altar—not to the turkey itself, but to the love and loyalty that the turkey represents.

The lesson for us is clear: do not neglect the rituals of family and tradition. In a world of distractions and fleeting pleasures, it is easy to let such customs fade. But when they do, so too does the thread that ties us to the past and to one another. Whether it is turkey, bread, lamb, or any other dish, what matters is not the food alone, but the constancy of gathering, of honoring what has been handed down.

Therefore, let your actions be these: cherish your traditions, and keep them alive. Invite the young to help prepare the feast, so that they may inherit the memory of it. Do not despise the simplicity of the ritual, for in that simplicity lies its strength. Remember that the holiday meal is not about perfection but about presence—being together, sharing what you have, and affirming that love is the true feast.

Thus, Steve Doocy’s words, though spoken lightly, reveal a wisdom as old as civilization: to share food in ritual is to share life itself. And in the humble turkey, offered again and again at Christmas and Thanksgiving, we find not only a dish, but a symbol of continuity, of gratitude, and of the eternal bond of family. Let this be passed down to future generations: that the feast is sacred, because it binds hearts together across time.