When we were young, Thanksgiving was simple. It was a day off from school, or from work. A day for watching football, or for eating as much turkey and pie as we could manage. As we’ve gotten older, though, our relationship with Thanksgiving has changed. It’s not just a day for eating, or relaxing, or even visiting with family, as enjoyable as all those things are. 

It’s a day for reflecting.

When we look back and reflect, we often realize just how many simple joys and surprises we’ve been blessed with throughout the year. Every last-minute change of plan that led to something better. Every hardship endured that made us that much stronger for the next. Every door that closed only for another to open. Every goal achieved; every obstacle overcome. Every much-needed hug or kind word spoken. Every new friendship made or old rekindled. Every person who ever lent their hand to hold, their arm to lean on, their heart to touch. 

Too often, we let the most golden moments of our lives go by without noticing. But Thanksgiving is a chance to count and catalog them all. So they don’t go to waste. So we remember them always. 

Recently, we discovered a Thanksgiving poem written by a poet named Ella Wheeler Wilcox in the 19th century. It perfectly encapsulates what the day now means to us – and why Thanksgiving is so important. We wanted to share it with you because, we think you will enjoy it, too. 

by Ella Wheeler Wilcox 

We walk on starry fields of white 
And do not see the daisies; 
For blessings common in our sight 
We rarely offer praises. 
We sigh for some supreme delight 
To crown our lives with splendor, 
And quite ignore our daily store 
Of pleasures sweet and tender. 

Upon our thought and feeling. 
They hang about us all the day, 
Our time from pleasure stealing. 
So unobtrusive many a joy 
We pass by and forget it, 
But worry strives to own our lives 
And conquers if we let it. 

There’s not a day in all the year 
But holds some hidden pleasure, 
And looking back, joys oft appear 
To brim the past’s wide measure. 
But blessings are like friends, 
I hold, Who love and labor near us. 
We ought to raise our notes of praise 
While living hearts can hear us. 

Full many a blessing wears the guise 
Of worry or of trouble. 
Farseeing is the soul and wise
Who knows the mask is double. 
But he who has the faith and strength 
To thank his God for sorrow 
Has found a joy without alloy 
To gladden every morrow. 

We ought to make the moments notes 
Of happy, glad Thanksgiving; 
The hours and days a silent phrase 
Of music we are living. 
And so the theme should swell and grow 
As weeks and months pass o’er us, 
And rise sublime at this good time, 
A grand Thanksgiving chorus.

We hope this Thanksgiving gives you a chance to reflect on all the joys, pleasures, and blessings in your life. 

On behalf of our entire team at Research Financial Strategies​, we hope you have a wonderful holiday! ​