Thanksgiving

The chess game that Pedro’s father made by his own hands.
Photo: Aage Myhre.

My friend, a journalist with the name Pedro, from Chile, gave me this chess game in 1987. At the end of the 1970s he had become victim of the military rule of Dictator Augusto Pinochet in his home country. Pedro had written some slightly critical comments about the General in his newspaper, and was given 24 hours to disappear out of Chile. The chess game was the only thing he brought with him in the backpack, except the bare necessities of clothing and food. It was his father who had carved the beautiful pieces out of wooden blocks, and the game was, therefore, the dearest object Pedro owned. He had over some time come to live in political asylum in Norway and had lived in Oslo for a few years when I met him. After a time of acquaintance he gave the chess game to me. He explained the reason: "You are the first and only Norwegian I have been able to communicate with, the only one who has shown me respect and interest since I came here."

The chess game I got from Pedro is standing here, next to me. Just to look at it makes me think. I think of a father who sat for months and cut out each individual shape very accurately and carefully from pieces of wood he had collected. I know that Pedro had been seeking asylum in Norway because he had told the truth about the abuser Pinochet. I know he spent several years in Norway without being met with genuine interest and love. The fact that my nation’s people, so quick and clever when it comes to aid and support of other peoples, not always is very good at communicating face-to-face with people who desperately need someone to talk to.

I'm glad I could play a role in Pedro's life. I am very grateful for the gift he gave me. The dearest object Pedro owned has become extremely dear to me. For all that it represents and communicates.

Thanksgiving Day is Thursday 24 November

The First Thanksgiving at Plymouth.
By Jennie A. Brownscombe. (1914).