FACES AND PLACES: A Ukrainian Thanksgiving (12/01/02)

FACES AND PLACES

by Myron B. Kuropas

A Ukrainian Thanksgiving

Of all of our holidays, Thanksgiving is my favorite.

Thanksgiving is a family holiday, a colorful autumnal time without the hustle, bustle and commercialism of Christmas, a time when the entire family - grandparents, mom and dad, children, grandchildren and, if you're lucky, great-grandchildren, can come together to give thanks for the many blessings we enjoy as Ukrainian Americans.

For as long as I can remember, Thanksgiving has been a solemn holiday in our house. Although both of my parents emigrated from Ukraine in the 1920s, and suffered through the Great Depression, they always celebrated Thanksgiving with as much spirit as the early Pilgrims. Mama invariably baked a turkey and took great care to prepare all of the ingredients which constituted a traditional Thanksgiving dinner. Mama and Tato loved America and appreciated the opportunity to give thanks as Americans.

Allow me to share a story about giving thanks. There is a legend about two angels who were once sent down from heaven. Each angle was given a basket and went from place to place collecting prayers that people said. When all the prayers were collected, the angels noticed that the basket of one angel was very heavy while the basket of the other angel was very light.

"What do you have in your basket?" asked one angel of the other. The angel with the heavy basket replied, "I was sent to collect the prayers of all the people who said, "I want,' 'I need,' or 'Please give me.'" The angel with the light basket replied sadly, "I was sent to collect all the 'thank you' prayers from all the people to whom God has sent a great blessing."

That little story, which appeared in our church bulletin on November 24, reminded me that I was one of those people to whom God has sent not one great blessing, but many.

This past Thanksgiving I gave thanks for family. I was blessed with grandparents who were gentle, caring and involved with my life. My grandmother, may she rest with God, was a saint.

I was fortunate enough to have wonderful parents, not perfect, but wonderful, nevertheless. It is a tribute to them that my sister and I grew up never wanting for anything. They took time to mold us, to nurture us and to point us in the right direction.

My greatest blessing today is Lesia, my life's companion, the woman who agreed to join me on my life's journey some 38 years ago and has never wavered. She has remained by my side through trouble and triumph, tears and laughter, sadness and joy.

Thanks to Lesia, I became the father of Stefko and Mykhailo, two outstanding young men who have followed in their grandfather's Ukrainian footsteps. They, too, have found joy in their marriages to Lesia and Patty.

Being grandparents to Mariana, Andrew, Kathryn, Kailee and Natalie has enriched our lives immensely. Each one of our grandchildren is a unique gift. Observing their development from infancy to childhood has been as extraordinary an experience as everyone told us it would be.

Thanksgiving is a uniquely American holiday, with the special smells of turkey and pumpkin pie, and, if you're lucky, a fireplace blazing away. We are reminded of the enormous sacrifices made by the Pilgrims and all who came after to create the most powerful, compassionate and creative nation on the face of the earth.

It was in America that Rusyns became Ukrainians. It was here that the spirit of the Ukrainian people, crushed and defiled in the homeland, was preserved, nurtured and allowed to blossom. It was America that gave our people an opportunity to develop their talents and to create institutions of higher learning, culture and mutual benefit.

It was in America, not Ukraine, that our fraternal associations were born. It was here that the now powerful Selfreliance credit unions and banks emerged to provide financial assistance to countless individuals and institutions, as well as to numerous Ukrainian causes that would have met an early death without that kind of assistance.

It was in America, not Ukraine, that our Churches - Catholic Orthodox and Protestant - were allowed to blossom and to invigorate their centuries-old traditions. It is here that our Churches and seminaries thrived. Patriarch Lubomyr Husar is a product of America, not Ukraine.

It was an American president, Harry S. Truman, who despite vociferous criticism from the Soviet Union and American fellow travelers, signed the Displaced Persons Act in 1948 opening America's door to thousands of Ukrainian escapees from the evil empire.

It was America, not France, not Germany, not Japan, not Great Britain, that brought the evil empire to an end, freeing, in the process, the Ukrainian nation.

It was in America, not Ukraine, that a Ukrainian free press came into its own. Even today, 11 years after Ukraine became an independent nation, a free press as we understand it, does not exist in the homeland.

It troubles me to read oafish denunciations of America by the looney left while praising the likes of Saddam and Arafat.

I am disgusted by the tactics of many of my university colleagues who have enlisted in the "America is Always Wrong" cabal while providing cover for the Islamo-commies who are bent on destroying the very institutions that these comrades profess to defend.

It angers me when I remember that it was the same group who burned American flags during the 1960s while kneeling at the altars of Fidel Castro, Ho Chi Minh, and Mao Tse Tung.

Finally, I was thankful during this past Thanksgiving that it is George W. Bush who is leading our country. Like Ronald Reagan, President Bush has intellectually overwhelmed his opposition. Watching this man perform is like watching Olympic-class figure skaters gracefully gliding over the ice on their way to victory. The opposition continues to underrate Mr. Bush, and that's fine. The opposition believes that they can win the next election with the same, tired, old McGovernite rhetoric of the past, and that's fine, too. Far be it from me to interfere with their fantasy life.

Yes, dear reader, this past Thanksgiving was an occasion of glorious celebration for the Kuropas Clan. I hope it was the same for you.

Myron Kuropas' e-mail address is: mbkuropas@compuserve.com.

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