What I love about Thanksgiving is that it's purely about getting

"What I love about Thanksgiving is that it's purely about getting together with friends or family and enjoying food. It's really for everybody, and it doesn't matter where you're from." In these words, Daniel Humm strikes at the sacred core of Thanksgiving. He reminds us that beneath the noise of history and beyond the shadows of division, this day is about gathering, about sharing, and about belonging. It is not bound by creed or culture, nor by wealth or status. It is a festival of the human heart, where all may sit at one table and find nourishment both for body and for soul.

The origin of Thanksgiving, though American in tradition, reflects the eternal human story of gratitude and harvest. The first great feast between settlers and Native peoples was born of necessity, survival, and fellowship. Yet from that humble beginning grew a holiday that has transcended its specific roots, becoming a ritual open to all peoples, no matter their background. In this, Humm speaks the truth: Thanksgiving does not ask where you were born, what god you worship, or what language you speak—it asks only that you come with an open heart to share food and fellowship.

History bears witness to the power of food as a unifier. In ancient Greece, festivals such as the Panathenaea drew citizens together not only for ritual and worship, but for shared feasts, where strangers became companions. In Rome, banquets after the harvest united rich and poor alike in recognition that all life springs from the earth. Even in times of war, soldiers have been known to lay down arms for a moment of bread and wine shared across the lines. Thanksgiving belongs to this great lineage: a reminder that at the table, humanity is one.

Humm’s words also carry a subtle yet heroic power: in a world fractured by division, this holiday whispers of unity. Friends and family gather, but so too do newcomers, neighbors, and strangers. The meal is both familiar and expansive, for the table can always be widened to make room for one more. In this act, food becomes more than sustenance—it becomes a sacrament of welcome, a declaration that we are not defined by our separations, but by our common need for nourishment and love.

There is also an echo here of the ancient truth that hospitality is among the highest virtues. In many cultures, to share food with another was to recognize their dignity and grant them protection. In offering bread, one offered friendship; in breaking a meal together, enmity was set aside. Humm’s love for Thanksgiving rests in this same principle: it is a holiday stripped of excess, devoted to the simplest and most powerful act of hospitality—sitting together, sharing a meal.

The lesson for future generations is this: do not let Thanksgiving become hollow or confined. Do not mistake it as belonging to one culture, one nation, or one tradition alone. Let it remain what it was meant to be: a universal call to gather, to eat, and to give thanks. Remember that it is for everybody, and therefore, you must seek to open your table, not close it. For in widening the circle, you reflect the true spirit of the feast.

Practical action flows from this truth: when Thanksgiving comes, do not count only those of blood or kin. Invite the neighbor, the stranger, the friend who has no family near. Prepare your table with generosity, not perfection. Let your home become a place where differences are forgotten, and the food speaks the universal language of gratitude. For in doing so, you not only honor the holiday, but you also pass down to the future the true meaning of Thanksgiving: that it is not about what divides us, but about the shared humanity that unites us all.