I met Thanksgiving Happening in pre-kindergarten, my first year at MFS. Thanksgiving Happening, or “THap,” is like an old friend to me.
THap may be almost 30 years old, but I was simply five years old when we first met. We’ve grown up together, adapting to new changes; as I grew up from childhood to adolescence, THap evolved from Thanksgiving Happening to its new abbreviation. Maybe one day it’ll be changed from THap into TH.
The event used to last a full day, but now it lasts half a day. We used to make the same crafts every year, but now we focus more on the activities, at least in my experience. Regardless, THap and I are different from the younger versions of ourselves, but we’ve grown to accept our changes, and even welcome them. We’ve developed together, even if we meet just once a year.
I look forward to our encounters every year. Even with all of the changes between the both of us, one thing has stayed static: my understanding of the importance of strengthening the MFS community annually. I have never had a poor THap experience because the event has always been centered around the interdivisional aspect of MFS. That is what makes THap special.
Little THap and little me would excitedly wait criss-cross applesauce on the rug, staring at the door, waiting for the big kids to arrive. We’d interlock our hands, skipping along the rainbow path to go to the Main Building from the comfort of the White Building. I’d walk on the red path, and my Upper School buddy would walk on the orange line.
Our journey would conclude when the big kid showed me to the final destination: a history classroom with a bunch of kids in many different grades, surrounding a huge black table. I barely recognized anyone, let alone knew anyone’s name. Bits and pieces of my faded memory from my older sister’s classmates gave me context to some of the faces, but the majority of them remained unrecognizable and undistinguishable.
Yet meeting new people didn’t feel uncomfortable. Intimidating and overwhelming, yes, but I immediately felt welcome. We would sit down and each share what we were thankful for before getting into the real stuff: the arts and crafts. What felt like hours of fun – tracing my hand to shape a turkey, coloring fruit on our group’s poster, and chatting with people I’d never dare to speak to otherwise – all culminated in a beautiful mural of traditional symbols of Thanksgiving in fall colors. Our crafts would go to the Lutheran Home, now called the Lutheran Care, giving a purpose to our lighthearted fun of craft-making.
Afterward, we’d walk to the big gym together, where half of the school community gathered for the closing ceremony of the event. Little me had never seen anything like this before: the booming voices coming from all directions, the new smell of the gym, and hundreds of people gathered under the harsh yellow-tinted light. My senses felt like they were being blended up to create a chaotic concoction of something resembling a community.
We would listen to the number of bags assembled during the Thanksgiving Food Drive, a Land Acknowledgement, a prayer, and my favorite, the “Stone Soup” story. Little me may not have known the importance and meaning of the Lenni-Lenape tribe or a prayer, but I did know “Stone Soup.”
Every year, we would hear a retelling of the classic folk story. Even though it was the same story each time, the entire gym full of people of all ages would laugh when the stranger in the story convinces the village to make soup out of a stone, or when the teacher narrating the story used different voices to emulate each character.
Leading into Meeting For Worship, the hundreds of voices gathered in the room would all simmer down into a quiet lull of squeaking shoes against the smooth vinyl from the gym floor as someone shifted their position. Or even better, the ripple effect of one person cracking their knuckles, compelling many others to follow shortly after. Sure, Meeting is “silent,” but we constantly break the silence to create sounds of unity even without speaking.
THap is more than just a half-day event that most people would prefer to skip to get a head start on their Thanksgiving break. It’s a time to bridge the gaps between each division, teacher and student, and stranger. THap recognizes the whole community, regardless of age, role, personal views, or any other differentiating factor.
It’s a celebration, a reunion, and a happy memory still ingrained in my memories, even if some experiences happened over a decade ago.
No matter the different forms that THap has evolved into, we must acknowledge that all traditions change to fit the wants of the present. Change is not something we should shy away from.
As Upper Schoolers, participating in this event should not be an obligation, but a joyful time to experience the pure connections made between the Lower School, Middle School, teachers, and alumni. MFS’s identity as a school is centered around its P-12 education. THap is more than just another Tuesday before Thanksgiving break: it’s a showcase of our unique ability to be a united, tight-knit community that all students should lean into. Opportunities like these can only exist if we choose to attend.
