I'm not from the States, so Thanksgiving, for me, was never a

Daniela Ruah, with honesty and simplicity, once confessed: “I'm not from the States, so Thanksgiving, for me, was never a huge tradition.” At first, her words may seem casual, but they reveal a deeper truth about culture, belonging, and tradition. For those born outside America, the rhythms of Thanksgiving—the turkey, the table, the feast of gratitude—may not hold the same weight, for these customs are bound to a specific soil, a specific history. Yet her reflection also reminds us that tradition is not fixed to geography alone—it is something one can embrace, reshape, or simply observe from afar.

The origin of this truth lies in the nature of Thanksgiving itself, a holiday born of American history. Rooted in the early 17th-century feast between the Pilgrims and the Wampanoag, and later sanctified as a national day of gratitude by Abraham Lincoln during the Civil War, Thanksgiving carries meanings tied to the struggles and triumphs of a specific nation. For those like Ruah, who hail from lands beyond, it may not carry the same ancestral weight. Her words remind us that tradition is always contextual, born of the stories, struggles, and victories of a particular people.

Yet there is something universal in her reflection. Throughout history, whenever people have migrated or crossed borders, they have encountered traditions foreign to their own. Some are adopted, some are adapted, and some are respected from a distance. Consider the Jewish people in Babylonian exile: they learned the customs of their captors, yet they preserved their own feasts, songs, and sacred days. Or think of immigrants who came to America in the 19th and 20th centuries: Italians, Irish, Germans, and others. At first, Thanksgiving was not their feast—but in time, many adopted it, blending its dishes with their own, creating tables where turkey sat beside pasta, tamales, or pierogis.

Ruah’s words also highlight the fluidity of belonging. To some, not celebrating a holiday may mark them as outsiders; to others, it is a chance to bring fresh eyes to an established custom. Sometimes those outside a tradition can see its essence more clearly than those within it. In Ruah’s case, her acknowledgment is not rejection, but recognition: Thanksgiving was not born of her story, yet she can still observe its spirit.

The deeper meaning here is that gratitude is larger than any single holiday. Though Ruah did not grow up with Thanksgiving as a central tradition, the practice of giving thanks exists in every culture. In Portugal, where she was raised, families gather at Christmas and other festivals with the same spirit of unity and reflection. In Africa, Asia, and the Middle East, harvest festivals and feasts of gratitude have been celebrated for centuries. Thus, while she may not call it Thanksgiving, the essence of thanksgiving—the spirit of gratitude and gathering—still pulses within her heritage.

The lesson for future generations is this: do not measure the depth of gratitude by whether you celebrate a particular feast. Tradition is important, but the spirit behind it is greater. A person who has no Thanksgiving dinner may still live a life full of thanksgiving. And one who has a grand table once a year but no gratitude in their heart has missed the essence entirely.

Practical wisdom flows from Ruah’s reflection. If you are outside a tradition, do not feel excluded—seek the spirit within it. If you are inside a tradition, do not cling only to its outer forms—seek its deeper meaning. Practice gratitude daily, not just once a year. Create your own rituals of thanksgiving, whether through meals, prayers, or acts of generosity. And when you join the traditions of others, honor them with respect, even if they are not your own.

Thus, Daniela Ruah’s words, though humble, become a teaching for the ages. Thanksgiving may not be her tradition, but gratitude is her inheritance as much as anyone’s. And so it is with all of us: the holiday may belong to one land, but the spirit of gratitude belongs to all humanity. Let every culture, every family, every individual find their own way of giving thanks, so that the feast of gratitude is never confined to one table, but spread across the earth.