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By Vivian Greentree

Originally, we were going to my parents' house for Thanksgiving as they won the annual coin toss between Christmas and Thanksgiving holiday visits. But both were trumped this year by a culmination of timeline restrictions and soaring airline ticket fees.

So this year, myself, my husband, and our small son will celebrate Turkey Day in our adopted home of Texas. At first, I was bummed. Always at the front of the buffet line at my grandparent's house, I was looking forward to my grandmother's home-made stuffing and my mother's (bought) honey-baked ham. More than that, we were looking forward to spending time with our family.

But after some consideration, Plan B started having some merit and the thought of not having to spend 3 hours on a plane with my son was really beginning to take the edge off not spending the holiday in Georgia. In fact, I had already warmed to the idea of eating this year's turkey and trimmings on base at Corpus Christi's Officer's Club when my friend Sylvester called. It seems he will also be spending Thanksgiving in Texas, his own adopted home since Katrina wiped away any semblance of his residence in New Orleans.

I met Sylvester that first Friday when the Corpus Coliseum opened its doors to the victims of Katrina. Amazingly enough, when I saw him the next Monday he already had the business card of a local company and was prepping for his job interview the next day. In spite of being airlifted to safety and losing everything but what he could carry with him, Sylvester had hope. More than that, he had courage, determination, and a plan. Amidst all the chaos and sadness, my new friend Sylvester resolved to take what had been dealt him and make the best of it.

I have wanted to write an article about his journey back to normalcy ever since I met him. I wanted to relay his willingness to work within the system and the constant roadblocks that could have stopped him (FEMA giving him the run-around on housing vouchers tops the list). I wanted everyone to know his story because of its uplifting nature and applicability to our own lives. He makes me question how I would hold up if my own house was wiped away along with all my possessions - would I be as resilient? As we made plans for him to spend Thanksgiving with my family, it dawned on me. I have so very much to be thankful for, why even spend another second lamenting one missed trip?

The end of the year always results in stories of gratitude and self-reflection, but really, if that kind of attitude pervaded the entire year, imagine the sort of goodwill that would abound and the things we could accomplish. It shouldn't take a holiday to make a person take stock in her life and give thanks for the simple pleasure of knowing where your next meal is going to come from.

Sylvester has become a sort of measuring stick for me. His good nature and strength both inspire and confound me. His presence in my life brings into sharp focus my own shortcomings and forces me to contemplate the darker side of myself - the myopic side that laments not having a new sweater or a bigger T.V.

The outpouring of support of Texans to our Louisiana neighbors has made me proud to live in Corpus Christi. And my newfound friendship with Sylvester and his family has enriched my life probably more than he will even realize. So, instead of bemoaning the fact that I won't be eating fried turkey with my Georgia relatives, I intend on giving thanks for spending time with my Texas friends.