Jehru

She took a deep breath and picked up the phone. It was time to make the call. She wanted her parents to say "yes." More than that, she wanted them to be the people she thought they were--to prove they meant the things they had taught her.

Hello

Hi, Mom. Is Dad around, I have a question for you both.

Hold on and let me get him.

Hello baby girl. How are you?

Fine daddy, I have a question for you and mom.

We're both on.

Mom, Dad, I have a friend that I've met at school that I want to bring home for Thanksgiving this year. But before you answer, I want to tell you about him.

Okay--a boyfriend?

He's a friend who happens to be a boy. Listen, he's not from here. His name is Jehru, or JB--well that's what I call him. He is the neatest guy--smart, funny, but all alone. His family is overseas--those who are still alive. You see, his dad was killed--assassinated really. He's from Africa. His parents sent him to the US for school when he was only 16. His dad was killed in machine gun fire the next year and it isn't safe for JB to go home. He's all alone, Mom. He hasn't seen his family in over 5 years. I know you've always said I can bring any of my friends home anytime, but he's different. He's black . . . and he's Muslim. More important, he's a really nice guy--smart, funny, but really lonely. We are so blessed as a family that I just want him to have a chance to have a real Thanksgiving with us. I mean, I know that everyone in town will talk--we don't have people of "color" and especially not a Muslim, but you've always told me that everyone matters to God. Think about it? Don't answer me now. Just think about it and call me back.

The phone rings: Baby

Hi, Mom. Hi, Dad.

We've talked it over. Of course your friend can come. Yes people will talk, but that is there problem. Now, what do you want me to fix, when are you coming home, and . . ..

A bit shyly she introduced him to her family. Love blossomed. A lasting bond--relationship--was formed and JB became one of the family. For many years after than when the family gathered, there was one--at least one--dark skinned young man with them. He shared his life and heart with them and grew in their love as well. It didn't matter that his skin was a different color. They loved one another. They each shared their stories, their faith, and the things that made them into the people they had become. And they understood a tiny piece of God's abundant love better for it.

Today, nearly forty years later, the community would no longer be as shocked by a white girl bringing a black boy home for the holidays . . . or would they? Today there might be more concern that he was Muslim . . . or would there?

Thanksgiving is a time to pause and reflect upon the grace of God. It is a time to celebrate family and the ties the connect us. It is a time to share abundance with others. It is a time to put aside our differences and thank God for supplying our needs.

God, help us to leave our filters of what makes someone different behind. Help us to see one another as you see us, as people--your creation, whom you love and made in an infinite variety. Focus our eyes on the hearts of others rather than their exterior shell. Help us, God, to open our hearts, minds, and souls to embrace all of creation and to recognize that we are truly all one--your children. Thank you for loving us--even when we don't behave in loving manners. Teach us your ways. So be it. Amen.