How You Say Thanksgiving

Sharing is Caring

To be able to share Thanksgiving dinner is a blessing for everyone.

For over forty years, Peggy and Jerry Graff-Perrett have spent every Thanksgiving not at their own table, nor at the homes of friends or relatives, but in the kitchen of the Salvation Army Post in Manchester, Connecticut. Since the early 1980s, they—and later their children, and now their grandchildren—have devoted this holiday to serving others.

Peggy prepares the kind of feast that has made Thanksgiving memorable: creamy mashed potatoes, golden turkey with stuffing, freshly made gravy, cranberry sauce, green beans, corn, and slices of pie for dessert. Fresh fruit and cookies delight the children, and every guest leaves with a warm “thank you for coming.”

My mother used to say that faithful giving doesn’t need to be advertised—it speaks for itself. Peggy and Jerry embody that spirit. Year after year, they give quietly, faithfully, and with joy.

In recent years, I’ve been honoured to join them as a volunteer, helping carve the turkeys—sometimes ten or twelve of them—so they can be served hot to those who might otherwise go without. The Manchester post transforms its hall into a dining room: tablecloths, place settings, centrepieces, printed menu,  even a small Salvation Army band in the corner of the room. 

Volunteers circulate with gravy boats and bowls of vegetables, smiling as they serve, because they know they are giving people not just food, but dignity and fellowship.

This year, Peggy and Jerry’s son Eric led the kitchen while his parents worked alongside the many volunteers. It is always the highlight of my winter to be part of this tradition, and I tip my hat to Peggy, Jerry, Eric, and the countless others who make it possible.

In a country as wealthy as ours, it is sobering that so many still rely on a hot meal provided by others. Yet it is also inspiring to see how generosity defines us. As my mother said, the measure of our greatness is how we treat those with less.