Oh, Thanksgiving. Turkey, cranberry sauce – and the worst traffic of the year. Ever been stuck at LAX on Thanksgiving weekend? Believe me, it’s not fun.

Thanksgiving is about food, family, and yes, even the squabbles which accompany both. Which side of the family to celebrate with? Whose home to invade? And then there are the important questions – do walnuts belong in stuffing? (Hint: YES.) Do we really need marshmallows and pineapple on sweet potatoes? (Uh, no.) But above all, Thanksgiving is about community.

Before we lived in Bethesda, my parents, sisters and I used to spend Thanksgiving in California. We gathered with my dad’s extended family: aunts, uncles, cousins, significant others and my grandmother Lita (short for the Spanish word for grandmother). The 20 or so of us cooked, ate, played foosball, watched football and updated each other on school, work and life. Especially popular was my grandmother’s famous calabacitas, a Mexican dish of squash, corn and cheese.

But that big, Norman Rockwell-esque celebration – generations gathered around the family table, with turkey and mashed potatoes steaming in the center – isn’t always possible in transient America. Families move, spread out and relocate. Some people manage to come home for the holiday, but others can’t, limited by distance, money, practicality or family dynamics.

Since moving to Maryland four years ago, my family hasn’t been able to go back to California each November. Instead, we eat turkey at home. In memory of Lita, who died two years ago, we always make calabacitas.

Bethesda has given us another, different November tradition that I love. Every year around Thanksgiving, my church holds an interfaith service with a local mosque and local Jewish congregation. This year, the pews were packed; in front of me stood women in hijabs and men in yarmulkes. The three leaders – a pastor, rabbi and sheikh – discussed each faith’s commitment to helping others and building community.

Together, our three congregations are working on a Habitat for Humanity project. Though coming together reveals differences in clothing and customs, it also shows our groups’ commonalities and the ways we can connect to support each other.

In many ways, Thanksgiving is about coming together, whether through a big gathering of extended family or a collaboration of several religious groups. That story kindergarteners learn, about Indians helping starving pilgrims through the harvest, is about commitment to community. This Thanksgiving, let’s be thankful for that community – local, national, global, religious or secular – and think about what it’s done for us and what we can do to give back.