Courtesy of fietzfotos / Pixabay.com
Thanksgiving
“she closed her eyes
and thought of her year.
it couldn't be just the "good" she was
thankful for.
it had to be the "all"…
the fullness, the depths, the journey.
the dance of life.
for these she gave thanks.”
~terri st. cloud
After reading terri’s poem above, I went for a walk and thought about “the all.” And I realized my gratitude reaches much further back than one year.
November has always held one of my favorite celebrations: Thanksgiving.
My name, Terese, means “Harvester.” When I first learned this, I was young. I grew up in a middle-class neighborhood, and to hear this, I was disappointed because we didn’t even live close to a farm.
My mom told me the story that the doctor who would be delivering me asked a few months before I was due if she had chosen a name for this fourth child of hers. She shook her head no. He thought a moment and said, Terry, would be a fine name if you have a boy or a girl.
Mom liked that. So, Terese Marie was born.
I was about 11 when I questioned why they gave me that name, hoping to hear it was after someone unique and with a profound life that I could follow. Of course, being a middle child, the desire to be different and stand out in a good way was always a dream of mine, but it wasn’t going to happen—not yet anyway—and having the meaning of ‘harvester’ for a name made it even more frustrating.
As the years passed, I began gathering things I never recognized as a harvest. Stories entrusted to me. People who crossed my path. Young people I had the privilege of encouraging. Conversations that lingered long after they ended. Losses that changed me. Joy that surprised me. Lessons I sometimes welcomed, and others I certainly did not.
Somewhere along the way, the little girl who wondered what on earth she was supposed to harvest had been harvesting all along.
Sometimes I wonder about that doctor who casually suggested Terry, to my mother, before I was born. Was it simply a name that came to him in the moment? Or was there something more quietly at work? I don’t know. But, I smile at the mystery of it now.
For all who have stepped on my path, this year, past years, and the different emotions and experiences we went through together, I’ve asked myself if I have harvested, grown, expanded, and changed with how I looked at life, today.
The answer: A profound and solid ~ Yes!
Perhaps this is what Thanksgiving means to me now:
I am grateful not only for the beautiful parts of the harvest.
I am grateful for the ‘all’ of it.
For what grew easily and what struggled.
For what stayed and what left.
For those who walked beside me and those whose paths moved away from mine. For what I understood immediately and what took years to reveal its meaning, is that every bit of it has become part of the harvest of my life.🍁
Thought to ponder:
When you look at the whole harvest of your life, not only the good, but, “the all” — what are you grateful for now that you couldn’t have understood then?
This Thanksgiving, as you give thanks for those you love, remember to include the person who has walked through every season of your life with you.
That beautiful person is…You.💖
©Terry Pottinger 2026
Courtesy of Drosera74 / Pixabay.com