Well it’s that time of year again for us at Hudson Valley Mercantile. It’s time to take a few moments out of our hectic lives to pause and reflect on all the things for which we are thankful.

This particular issue of Mercantile represents our fourth annual “Gratitude” edition. Each year this issue reflects our attempt to put a more grateful spin on a holiday preview edition of our modest monthly arts and entertainment magazine. We initiated this concept while planning our November issue of Mercantile in 2009. We were wrapping up a year through which we had seen our relatively new small publishing company weather America’s worst economic year since the Great Depression. Naturally we were grateful to have succeeded to the extent we had, and presumed there were others like us out there in the Hudson Valley who were also grateful for their own economy-defying business survival.

The theme has consistently resonated each year with readers, editorial contributors and advertisers alike. But let’s be honest, it’s not exactly a controversial concept – asking people to consider for a moment the blessings in their lives. In a culture that has become increasingly polarized by politics, cynical social debates and a slow-moving economy, there is still universal acceptance of the merits – if not the application – of gratitude.

I generally approach this issue each year with an idealist’s gait. It’s one of those prerogatives of which we are proud as independent publishers, where we attempt to shape human interaction in our small corner of the Hudson Valley. It’s our annual pre-holiday card to our community; wishing everyone a happy holiday season to come with our hope of conveying one simple but important theme: no matter your challenges, take the time to be grateful for the good things in your life. In past years I’ve found myself in the month preparing this issue joyfully taking inventories of my own blessings – of family, friends, business prospects, and my relative health and safety at a rather precarious point in global history.

This year, though, the month leading to this thanksgiving issue tested this annual exercise of looking on the bright side of things. A cumulative series of minor business and personal setbacks met the high-pressure system that was the ongoing divisive discourse of national election campaigns, resulting in a perfect storm of insecurity and anxiety for me. Visibility and my perspective became limited. As a dark cloud fixed above my head for nearly a month, I had a hard time getting into a grateful mood.

I imagine anyone reading this can relate to the standing hopeless feeling one gets when stymied in a prolonged rut. Even the most wholesome experiences are viewed with reluctance or even consternation. It was with this frame of mind – or pretty close to it – that I traveled to a recent meeting in Red Hook.

As publishers of Mercantile, Heather and I had engaged the Red Hook Bicentennial Committee nearly two years ago to offer monthly coverage of the 2012 Red Hook Bicentennial celebration in Mercantile. We had offered a publication strategy that included a special edition dedicated to commemorating this special point in Red Hook’s history. Two years later, all of that had come to pass. We were consistently proud of our participation throughout the festivities and were obliged to attend a meeting planned for the end of October to celebrate all that had been achieved by the group. Then came Sandy – more bad weather – and the meeting was rescheduled to Election Day.

We were a bit late for the meeting. Walking up the wooden ramp leading to the back entrance of the historic Elmendorf Inn in Red Hook, we saw through the windows a rather large group of people already seated in colonial era chairs around a series of long colonial era tables set together family style and topped with a cornucopia of refreshments. I admonished the kids to remember their manners, sighed silently to myself, and we then sheepishly entered and insinuated ourselves into the meeting. Then Loretta Campagna began to speak.

Loretta is a community organizer of some renown in Red Hook. After some incredible contributions to the Red Hook Public Library’s Big Read events a couple years back, she emerged for many as the obvious choice to spearhead planning for Red Hook’s Bicentennial celebrations. By all accounts she took on the task with her usual task-master zeal – all the while unrelenting and nurturing – making every volunteer know that they were involved in a once-in-a-lifetime community phenomenon. For her part, Loretta has received the undying thanks of the community with a number of awards and resolutions. She accepted all the accolades on behalf of her minions of volunteers.

I entered the meeting mindful of all this. Still, I was dubious of my capacity to appreciate it fully. But what followed was 90 minutes of sheer gratitude that I hope to remember for the rest of my life. Loretta proceeded to recount the heroic efforts of dozens of standing committee members for the better part of the past two years. With each acknowledgement of each action of planning and implementation for the Bicentennial, the group applauded generously and sincerely. It was Loretta’s mission to selflessly thank every single person who helped make the year-long celebration of Red Hook’s heritage an overwhelming success. And it turns out that expressions of gratitude are contagious. Volunteers were asked to share their thoughts on the experience. To a person, they expressed their joy and their thanks for the opportunity to embrace the community in this special way. At long last these were selfless expressions for the collective We.  There were no political aspirations, no ulterior motives or insidious agendas; only kind words of appreciation for a community brought together as one.

The way I was feeling going into that meeting, the very last thing I wanted to do was to spend an hour and a half listening to a bunch of community do-gooders congratulating themselves. But then a funny thing happened almost by necessity for me. I found myself with my family in the middle of a room filled with a group of Community Do-gooders thanking each other for their shared efforts; taking a collective bow for a job extremely well-done. It was a Grinch-like epiphany for me and I was reminded of what it means to be grateful.