Thanksgiving is one of my favorite American traditions. I

In the words of Marcus Samuelsson, a man who journeyed across nations and cultures, there is a truth that shines with gratitude and belonging: “Thanksgiving is one of my favorite American traditions. I quickly picked it up when I moved to the U.S. from Sweden.” At first, this sounds like a simple reflection on food and festivity, yet within it lies a deeper wisdom—the way traditions, though born in one land, can be adopted and cherished by those who come from afar. It reveals that rituals of gratitude and community are not bound by blood alone but are open to all who enter the circle of fellowship.

The heart of Samuelsson’s words rests in his love of tradition. A man of Sweden, raised in one culture and transplanted into another, he shows us that customs need not be exclusive. When he came to America, he did not remain a stranger to its practices, but embraced Thanksgiving as if it were always his own. Why? Because at its core, Thanksgiving speaks a universal language: gratitude for life, celebration of community, and reverence for the blessings of the season. These are not American virtues only, nor Swedish, but human ones, echoing across all lands and ages.

History is rich with examples of this adoption of new traditions. When the Romans expanded their empire, they did not destroy the feasts of the peoples they conquered but often incorporated them, weaving them into their own calendar of rituals. The Saturnalia, the feast of Mithras, and countless other celebrations were absorbed, reshaped, and made part of the whole. So too with Samuelsson—though not conquered, he chose freely to take on Thanksgiving, folding its warmth and flavors into his own life story. This shows us that tradition grows stronger not by excluding, but by welcoming.

There is also something deeply poignant in his swift embrace of the holiday. For the immigrant often feels the sting of distance—the absence of the familiar, the ache of what was left behind. Yet here was a tradition that healed that distance, that gave him a place at the table not as an outsider but as one of the family. Thanksgiving, with its open arms, gave Samuelsson not only food but belonging. It is a reminder to us all that the table is strongest when it has room for many.

The pilgrims of 1621, struggling after a brutal winter, were themselves strangers in a new land. Yet they found allies in the Wampanoag people and shared a feast of gratitude that became the seed of the holiday. In this way, the very origin of Thanksgiving echoes Samuelsson’s experience—it is the feast of the newcomer, the outsider welcomed, the tradition born out of crossing boundaries. The holiday has always been about joining, about finding unity amid difference, about gratitude that transcends nation.

The lesson here is clear: we must hold fast to traditions, not as rigid monuments of the past, but as living rituals that grow richer when shared. If you are the one who inherits a tradition, open it to others; if you are the one who arrives from afar, do not hesitate to embrace it as your own. Traditions are not weakened when adopted by others—they are strengthened, renewed, and carried forward into new generations.

Practical wisdom flows from this. At your next Thanksgiving, invite someone who has never celebrated it before. Teach them the story of the feast, but also listen to their own traditions and see how they may add new flavors to the table. And if you are the newcomer, embrace the feast wholeheartedly, bringing your own dishes, your own memories, your own gratitude into its circle. For in doing so, you make the tradition not only American, but truly universal.

Thus, in the words of Marcus Samuelsson, we are reminded that traditions are bridges, not walls. Thanksgiving, though born in one land, belongs to all who choose to live in gratitude and fellowship. And when the table is widened, when the feast is shared, the spirit of the holiday shines more brightly than ever before.