Holding Both: Gratitude and the Truth of Thanksgiving
Thanksgiving looks a little different here at Little Forest Farms.
While we love the smell of pies in the oven and the sound of laughter spilling from the kitchen, our day starts quietly. Before the coffee is poured, before the turkey or vegetables touch the oven, we step outside for a few moments of stillness...a moment of silence.
In that silence, we remember the Indigenous peoples who lived, partnered with, protected and thrived on this land long before any of our family’s ancestors arrived. We acknowledge the Mohegan, Mashantucket, and Pequot peoples, whose stewardship shaped this region we now call home. We recognize the devastation they endured - lives lost, families torn apart, cultures suppressed - and we sit in the discomfort of that truth.
It isn’t easy to hold both gratitude and grief in the same breath, but we believe that’s where the most honest thanksgiving begins.
Learning to Listen Differently
Over the years, we’ve made a conscious effort to learn from Indigenous educators and to attend local events hosted by the Mashantucket-Pequot Tribe. Those experiences have gently unlearned so many of the stories we grew up with - and replaced them with something far more real and rooted.
One of the most powerful lessons shared with us came from an Indigenous teacher who said,
“If you’re doing something because it’s part of Native culture, it’s appropriation - even if your intentions are good. But if you’re doing something because it speaks to you, because it feels aligned in your spirit and happens to echo Indigenous practice - that’s connection.”
That distinction reshaped how we move through the world.
It isn’t about imitation; it’s about resonance. We don’t “borrow” ceremonies or claim traditions that aren’t ours. Instead, we let the wisdom of those teachings settle in beside our own rhythms - allowing respect, rather than performance, to guide our gratitude.
How We Practice Gratitude in Partnership with the Land
Our family’s way of honoring the land has grown from those lessons.
When we harvest herbs, wild greens, or food that we've grown, we pause first. We thank Mother Earth for her generosity, speak a few quiet words of gratitude and offer something back. Sometimes a handful of food scraps for the soil, sometimes a lock of our own hair. It’s a simple exchange that reminds us that giving and taking should always be in balance.
Throughout the year, we share the true history of Indigenous peoples with MJ - stories that tell both the beauty of their cultures and the tragedy of what colonization destroyed. These aren’t easy conversations, but they feel essential. The more we understand, the deeper our gratitude grows.
We also try to live the lessons those stories carry: to take only what we need, to waste less, to notice the health of our soil and water as reflections of our own. Those practices aren’t “Native rituals” we’ve adopted - they’re universal values of reverence, rooted in the same respect the Mashantucket-Pequot and Mohegan peoples continue to model so beautifully.
Inviting You to a More Honest Thanksgiving
If you’ve ever felt conflicted about Thanksgiving - the joy of gathering mixed with the unease of the history behind it - you’re not alone. Gratitude doesn’t require ignoring pain; it asks us to see clearly and still give thanks.
Here are a few ways any family can honor Indigenous peoples in their own rhythms:
Start with learning, not labeling. Take time to learn whose land you live on. Explore local tribal museums or cultural centers. If you’re nearby, two remarkable places to visit are the Tomaquag Museum in Rhode Island and the Mashantucket Pequot Museum & Research Center.
Give back to the land. When you garden, hike or harvest, pause for a moment of gratitude. Offer something back - a small offering, a quiet thank-you or a promise to leave the land better than you found it.
Support Indigenous voices. Buy from Indigenous artisans, authors and makers. Follow their work. Listen more than you speak.
Talk about the full story with your family. Share age-appropriate truths with children. Let gratitude grow from awareness rather than nostalgia.
None of this needs to feel performative or “woke.” It can simply be human - an act of remembering that everything we have, every tradition we cherish, exists because someone tended this land before us.
Holding Both
After our morning reflection, our day unfolds like many others: food, laughter, messy joy. The somber quiet of sunrise gives way to the rhythm of chopping vegetables, sneaking bites of pie and clinking dishes that mark another year of gratitude.
But underneath it all, that stillness remains - a thread connecting the past to the present. It’s what grounds us. It’s what keeps our gratitude honest.
This Thanksgiving, we’ll hold both. The grief and the grace. The history and the hope. We’ll gather, give thanks and continue learning what it means to live gently on this land.
From our family to yours, may your table be full, your heart be light and your gratitude run deep.
