November 27, 2025
It’s early Thanksgiving morning. Too early. The kind of early where the house is quiet, the coffee is barely working, and I’m already wondering whether I’ll remember to actually say thank you to the people who deserve it.
Today’s Thought of the Day and Question of the Day push us into that weird intersection between gratitude, history, and the way we’ve turned a harvest meal into a national event with parades, football, and cranberry sauce shaped like the can it slithered out of. So let’s get into it.
Thought of the Day: “Feeling gratitude and not expressing it is like wrapping a present and not giving it.” — William Arthur Ward
When I read this quote, it hit me right in the ribs, like, “Hey, Ken, remember all those times you meant to thank someone and absolutely did not?” Yes. Yes, William Arthur Ward. I do.
I can’t tell you how many times I’ve felt genuinely grateful and then… nothing. No words. No text. Just quiet appreciation floating around in my head like a balloon no one tied to anything.
I think something nice about my wife, like how she somehow packs three kids, side dishes, and her sanity into the car, and instead of saying “I appreciate you,” I just nod like a barn animal and keep moving. Or a friend texts at the exact right moment and my brain goes, “That was really thoughtful,” but my fingers apparently didn’t get the memo.
And today, at my parents’ house, when my mom pulls her magic stuffing out of the turkey, the stuffing she’s made every Thanksgiving for three decades, I know I’ll feel that warm wave of appreciation. The kind that makes you realize, yeah, some traditions are weird (raisins? really?), but they’re consistent. They matter.
Most years, I wouldn’t say anything. I’d think it. I’d feel it. And then I’d let the moment pass because gratitude can feel awkward and vulnerable… like you’re opening a door into your insides and hoping no one slams it on your fingers.
But this quote reminded me: gratitude isn’t meant to be stored. It’s meant to be given.
It’s like electricity. It only works when it moves.
We live in a world where playing it cool is the default. Don’t be too earnest. Don’t make it weird. Don’t say the thing that actually matters. But honestly? Let’s make it weird. Let’s tell the truth. Let’s give the present while it’s still wrapped neatly instead of handing someone a smushed box you rediscovered in July.
So today I’m trying to say it. Not perfectly. Not poetically. Just:
“I noticed.”
“That helped.”
“Thank you.”
Because unspoken gratitude is just potential energy. It doesn’t change anyone’s day until you release it.
Question of the Day: How do you think the Pilgrims would feel about the way we celebrate Thanksgiving?
Okay, first of all, the Pilgrims would be confused. Deeply confused.
Imagine dropping someone from 1621 into a 2025 Thanksgiving:
“Why is that giant inflated Snoopy floating down a city street?”
“Why is everyone screaming at a TV?”
“Why does that cranberry sauce still look like the inside of the can?”
“Why did the neighbor put up Christmas lights before we even arrived?”
And if you tried explaining Black Friday to them? Forget it.
“You woke up when? For what? Why is that woman fighting someone over a discounted blender?”
Their heads would explode.
But once the shock wore off, I think they’d notice something familiar: we’re still gathering. We’re still cooking. We’re still grateful, sometimes awkwardly, sometimes inconsistently, sometimes only after someone reminds us (hi).
Thanksgiving today is a bit of a Frankenstein’s monster of tradition, capitalism, family dynamics, and the occasional political argument no one asked for. But under all that? There’s still connection.
I think the Pilgrims would appreciate that part. The resilience of the ritual. The fact that 400 years later, we still mark this time of year by coming together, even if half the table is on their phones and someone burned the rolls.
Would they understand the turducken? No.
Would they approve of canned cranberry sauce? Also no.
Would they think pumpkin pie is a gift from God? Probably.
But they’d see what we’re trying to do:
Make meaning.
Share food.
Be grateful, even when life feels loud and messy and too much.
Thanksgiving might look nothing like theirs—but it still aims at the same heart:
We’re here. Together. And that matters.
Join the Conversation
How do you think the Pilgrims would react? And who in your life deserves a little extra gratitude today?
Drop a comment and share your thoughts—or join the daily email and send me your answer directly. I read every single one.
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