One of my favorite Thanksgiving traditions was always going to dinner at my grandma’s house. In the corner of her dining room there was a wooden China cabinet, beautifully carved and holding a collection of colorful, decorative plates. These plates were special—used only for the most important occasions.
Every year, I would arrive at my grandma's house early, excited to help set the table. My first task was always to open the cabinet doors and admire the plates. Each one was unique, with vibrant colors and intricate designs. Some plates were delicate, with soft floral patterns in pinks and purples, while others featured angels with golden halos or paisley swirls in rich blues and greens. There were also plates with nature inspired designs—trees, birds, and leaves that captured the beauty of the outdoors. The plates were also different sizes and each one reflected its own charm. I always looked forward to discovering which plate would be mine. I loved the idea of each plate holding my delicious Thanksgiving meal, but even more, it was about the tradition, the beauty, and the mystery of which plate would grace my spot at the table.
What made the tradition even more special was my grandma’s secret touch. Before dinner, she would sneak into the dining room and place a name card beneath each plate. No one knew whose name would be under their plate until we were all seated. After we said our prayer, it was time for the big reveal. “Now, look beneath your plate,” grandma would say, her voice full of warmth. We’d lift the plates, and there it was—a name, neatly written on a small card. The name on the card was always a surprise, and it was always meaningful. Before we ate, we would go around the table, sharing something we loved or appreciated about the person whose name was beneath our plate. It could be a simple memory or a heartfelt compliment, but it always brought a smile and a sense of connection to everyone at the table.
This year, as Thanksgiving approached, I began thinking about this tradition in a different light. It made me reflect on our relationship with God. Just as my name was lovingly placed under my plate, I realized that God has our names always beneath His “plate”—the plate of His love. God created us, and He loves us deeply. That love never changes, no matter the season or the year. This holiday season, I am choosing to reflect on how much God truly loves me, and I am eager to understand just a little bit more of that unending love.
