The First Feast Of the Winter Festival!



Mom, pulled my brother and I out the Thanksgiving Parade on television. She packed us kids, the collie, my dad, and the pumpkin, mince, and apple pies in the rusty Volkswagon Bus.

It took forever to get to Grandmother's house. We lived in Buffalo. Grandmother and Grandpa lived in Lakewood, NY, which is South of Jamestown.

Two and a half hours later, we pulled into our grand parents driveway. Mom honked the horn to announce our arrival. Grandmother had been peering out the kitchen window before we drove in.

The usual banter of "Hello! You made it! I was beginning to worry. Was the driving bad?" greeted us as we carried the pies through the trellis, up the stairs into the small white house.

I had to go back outside and tie our dog up to the big maple tree in the middle of the yard, fill up the water, and give her some food. When I came back in the house smelled wonderful.

Grandmother pulled the golden turkey out of the oven. "Do you think it's done enough?"

Mom looked at the turkey critically. "I don't know," she said as she stabbed the bird with a long knife. "Maybe you should let it cook another fifteen minutes."

"You kids get out of the kitchen!" Grandmother yelled.

My brother and I hurried into the dining room. There was nothing good to watch on television until after dinner. My brother and I had run out of things to say to each other some time on the way over. Grandpa was still asking Dad how work was going. There was nothing to do but wait.

I looked at the large feudal oak table covered with a white cloth table cloth. Yellow candles stood on each side of a wooden bowl filled with plastic fruit which sat in the center. Six white plates with giant pink roses were arranged around the table. Four small wine glasses half filled with Mogan David, a purple colored wine sat next to four of the plates.

The chairs without wine glasses belonged to my brother and me. Our chairs were marked. They were the one's with the plastic drop clothes under them.

Mom first brought out the corn and then the sweet potatoes.

"I need someone to mash the potatoes!" Grandma called.

Dad hurried into the kitchen. Grandpa followed him. Mom came out with a dish of cranberry sauce, and a dish of celery sticks. Grandpa carried out creamed onions, and Jello salad green with pear in the middle of it. Mom brought out the broccoli. The buzz of the electric knife came from the kitchen. Grandpa came out with a basket of home made bread.

Dad finally came back into the dining room. Grandmother followed him in with the plate filled with turkey. Finally, Grandmother said the words we were waiting for.

"It's time to eat everybody!"

Giving Thanks

Are You a Pumpkin? An e-mail reprint remembering God.


More Information

Thanksgiving Information material is provided by the Fourth World Documentation Project.

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