Thanksgiving just gets me all warm and tingly and all kinds of

"Thanksgiving just gets me all warm and tingly and all kinds of wonderful inside." In these words, Willard Scott, the beloved broadcaster and voice of joy for many, captures the essence of Thanksgiving not as a feast of the body, but as a feast of the soul. His words are simple, almost childlike in tone, yet they strike deep. For he does not speak of the food, the parade, or even the rituals of the day, but of the inner fire—the warmth that arises when gratitude, memory, and love converge in the heart. It is a warmth no feast alone can give, for it is born of the bonds between people and the blessings that time bestows.

The origin of such a feeling is ancient, stretching back to the very first gatherings of humans around fire. Feasts were never only about survival; they were about belonging. To sit together, to share food, and to pause from labor created a sacred warmth that spread through the heart as much as the body. In this sense, Scott’s words echo the primordial truth that meals shared in unity bring not just nourishment, but joy that glows from within, like embers that refuse to die.

History gives us a vivid example in the first Thanksgiving of 1621. For the Pilgrims, starved and battered by loss, and for the Wampanoag, who extended their aid, the shared meal was more than survival—it was a moment of hope. When the corn was harvested, the venison roasted, and the wild fowl shared, something greater than hunger was satisfied. For a brief moment, there was warmth that came not from fire or blankets, but from gratitude and fellowship. That same warmth, centuries later, is what Scott describes when he speaks of feeling “all kinds of wonderful inside.”

There is also a wisdom here about the simplicity of joy. Scott does not cloak his words in grandeur; he speaks plainly, as if gratitude itself were best expressed in a childlike manner. And indeed, the greatest blessings of Thanksgiving are not complicated—they are the warmth of family, the comfort of tradition, the delight of memory. Too often we search for joy in distant places, when in truth it sits quietly at the table, waiting for us in laughter, in familiar dishes, and in the touch of a loved one’s hand.

His words also serve as a reminder that gratitude is a feeling as much as it is a practice. To feel “warm and tingly” is to experience, in one’s body, the presence of peace and contentment. Science today even affirms what the ancients knew: gratitude calms the spirit, strengthens the heart, and fills the mind with clarity. But long before science, people knew this by experience—the warmth that comes when blessings are remembered and love is cherished.

The lesson for future generations is to never dismiss the power of such warmth. It may seem small compared to the achievements of life, but it is in fact the foundation of happiness. Seek not only the feast of plenty, but the feast of the soul. Create traditions, no matter how simple, that kindle this inner fire in your children and your children’s children. For when the table is gone, when the food is forgotten, it is the wonderful inside that will endure, carried forward in memory and heart.

Practical action flows from this truth. At your own Thanksgiving, pause to notice the warmth. Close your eyes and let gratitude rise within you. Speak aloud what you are thankful for, not only to God, but to one another. Let your words kindle warmth in those around you. And when you feel that tingling joy, recognize it for what it is: the soul’s way of telling you that you are exactly where you belong.

Thus, Willard Scott’s words, though lighthearted, carry the weight of timeless wisdom: Thanksgiving is not about what is on the table, but about what is in the heart. The warmth of gratitude is life’s true feast, the joy that no winter can chill and no sorrow can extinguish. Let this be taught, cherished, and lived, so that every generation may know the fire of thanksgiving that burns not in the oven, but in the soul.