Thanksgiving is a big one for our family.

In the words of Kevin Jonas: “Thanksgiving is a big one for our family.” Though brief, this saying is filled with the fragrance of memory, tradition, and unity. It is not a statement about food alone, nor about a date marked upon the calendar, but about a ritual that binds the generations together. For when Jonas speaks of Thanksgiving as “a big one,” he points to something greater than a holiday: he names it as a cornerstone of belonging, a time when love becomes tangible, and when the bonds of kin are renewed around the table of gratitude.

The ancients understood the sacredness of gathering. In every culture, feasts were not merely for eating, but for binding hearts together in shared remembrance. The Greeks gathered for festivals of harvest, the Romans for banquets of thanksgiving to their gods, the Hebrews for Passover, each a moment when family and community reaffirmed who they were. Such occasions were never small, for they carried the weight of identity. So it is with Thanksgiving in Jonas’s words: it is “a big one” because it marks not just the harvest of food, but the harvest of love and memory.

Consider the pilgrims of Plymouth, whose first Thanksgiving was meager in food but abundant in meaning. They gathered not in wealth, but in survival, giving thanks for life preserved and for bonds forged with one another and with their Native allies. That gathering became a story told across centuries, shaping the identity of a nation. Kevin Jonas’s simple declaration stands in this same tradition: a recognition that the feast is not measured by what is on the table, but by who is around it.

The phrase also hints at hierarchy in the calendar of the heart. There are many days, many holidays, many occasions to pause, but some loom larger, heavier with memory, dearer with tradition. To say Thanksgiving is “a big one” is to admit that it holds a place of honor in the rhythm of family life, perhaps because it is not entangled with gifts or commerce, but with togetherness. It is one of the few times when the modern world slows, when work is set aside, and the family returns to itself.

Yet there is more: the family feast is not only about joy, but about healing. Around the table, estrangements can soften, old wounds may find balm, and laughter may bridge gaps that ordinary days cannot. In this way, Thanksgiving becomes more than tradition—it becomes renewal. Jonas’s words may be simple, but beneath them lies the eternal truth that families, though often strained, find their strength in such rituals of gathering.

The lesson is clear: do not underestimate the power of tradition. What may seem small to the world—one more holiday in the year—may be the very foundation of your family’s identity. Treat such days with reverence, for they are opportunities to teach children gratitude, to honor elders with presence, and to remind each other that in a world of uncertainty, there remain days that are constant, days that are “big ones” because they bind us together.

Practical action is within reach: guard your Thanksgiving traditions, and if they do not yet exist, create them. Share stories, prepare meals together, speak words of gratitude aloud, and make the day a pillar for your children to remember. If your family is fractured, invite reconciliation; if your table is full, invite someone who has none. By doing so, you enlarge the circle of gratitude, transforming a holiday into a holy day.

Thus, Jonas’s words remind us that Thanksgiving is not only about a feast, but about family, identity, and renewal. To call it “a big one” is to honor its role as more than a pause in the year—it is the anchor of love, the hearth of tradition, the reminder that no matter how far we wander, there is a table that awaits us, warm and enduring.