Holidays are individual, like anything else. I met three women this morning who love Thanksgiving because of Black Friday, a corporate nightmare I have been huffing about for years.  They plan their shopping all year, look for bargains, strategize about shopping, plot intricate maps, dress carefully, stuff their pockets with water and cookies, launch at 8 p.m., each with lists of things they want and bargains offered. Each has to get something one of the others really wants or needs, and nobody quits until everyone has their lists filled. On top of that, everyone gets a surprise for themselves, something they wanted but couldn’t afford normally. They save up for it all year.

“We have so much fun,” Julia said, “we really take care of each other, text constantly, call on our cells when we strike gold – we always strike Gold. Then sometime Friday morning, when we have what we want, and are ready to drop, we meet for lunch. We love it, it is just the best time. We are such good friends.” Donna and Cindy were just as enthusiastic and each regaled me with their plans, their great stories of previous trips, their careful plotting – parking lots spaces, hidden mall entrances, secret websites with tips for them, even friendly store managers who whisper tips in their ears (they bring gifts for them).

I told them I had been stewing for weeks about the perversion of Thanksgiving into a shopping fest rather than a holiday of gratitude – why can’t they do this on Friday, not Thursday? –  and I still feel that way, but I also realize that it is so easy to slip into righteousness, to see the world through my own prism. I don’t like it when people do it to me, why should I do it for other people? I hope one day Thanksgiving is reclaimed from corporate greed, and I will not spend Thursday in malls looking for bargains, but there was much joy, gratitude, friendship and connection in what these three women are planning.

I told them I was going to have a gratitude Friday. Celebrating what I have gained, not lost, what I love, not dislike, my strength, not weakness, my courage, not my fear. My hopes and achievements. I will think of five ways to be creative, of good photos, of what might make Maria have as happy a day as Julia and her friends, of walking the dogs, communing with a donkey. They thought it was great for me.

It is amazing to me how people can find their own joy in strange and simple pleasures, and I can always learn something from watching and listening. I wish Julia and her friends good luck, and when I think of them launching their party at dusk Thursday, I wish them well. They make me smile. That is also something to be grateful about.