We all know the story of Thanksgiving. Of how the Puritans landed at Plymouth Rock in 1620, escaping the tyranny and religious persecution of the Old World. Of how they made a treacherous journey to find freedom on this continent. Of how they settled at the edge of a vast and unknown wilderness and nearly perished in their newfound home. Of how they were rescued by a generous group of Native Americans who brought them food and taught them how to survive in this strange new land.

And we all know how a year later the Puritans sat down to a feast of thanksgiving and expressed their gratitude to their American Indian neighbors, who welcomed them, and to God who protected them. That’s why we gather each year to share our thanks for the freedom that we enjoy, for our blessings and for our bounty.

My ancestors weren’t here in 1620; they were in Lublin, Poland. But ever since I first learned this story in elementary school, I’ve always thought of it as my story as well.
I’ve always felt that Thanksgiving was my holiday because the experience of those first Pilgrims is one shared by my people — the Jewish people. Like the Puritans, we’ve also known tyranny. (This still holds true in some places around the world.)

Like the Puritans, we’ve lived in fear of the knock at the door in the middle of the night. Like the Puritans, we’ve dreamed of freedom for our children, endured a harrowing journey, and found here a New World, open to our contributions of talent and energy.
Any Jew with an appreciation of history will recognize that America is a miracle. Although other lands of the diaspora have provided degrees of security and opportunity, only America has offered a genuine sense of belonging.

It’s not just the Bill of Rights that opened America to us. It’s this remarkable melding of the American story and the Jewish story that gives us a sense of being at home here.
We share the experience of exodus, of journey, of God’s protection, of reaching the Promised Land. We share the need to protect liberty, to express our gratitude and to share with those in need.

Thanksgiving then is really a sacred festival of American civic religion that uniquely captures the miracle of homecoming that we share with all other Americans.

It’s in this spirit that I’d like to suggest that we add some Jewish element, some Jewish component, to our Thanksgiving table. It could be something very simple, like beginning our Thanksgiving dinner with Kiddush. Or it could be something on a grander scale, like transforming our Thanksgiving meal into a Thanksgiving seder. The possibilities to fuse our American and Jewish heritages at this special time of the year are truly endless.
Wishing you a happy Thanksgiving and a Hag sameach.

This article originally appeared in CBI’s Three Doors Bulletin and is reprinted with permission.