Thanksgiving Eve

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving. Therefore loving Fiona means listening to her recite her first grade turkey-day-ditty, without visibly cringing. Something inside me says that this is not the time to nit pick my problems with the public school system. But really, how many more years must we listen to seasonally appropriate creatures make exclamations while sitting on a fence? How about some Margaret Willey rhymes instead?

I'll help you, Mother.
We'll cook a feast!

A tower of biscuits, a bushel of peas,
a tub of potatoes, a wheel of cheese,
a dozen pies, a barrel of juice,
cranberries, plums,
and a Thanksgiving goose!


The other day this book came home with us:

Delightful item, but the illustrations reminded me that we had not read, Nana's Birthday Party in far too long. I love this book deeply. Nana throws a party for herself every year in between Thanksgiving and Christmas where there are no gifts allowed, except the homemade kind. Set in the middle of New York City, this book is filled with hat boxes, insecurities, and taking joy in sweet memories. It is the kind of read that refreshes the souls of weary children that come home from a dramatic day at school.


Tonight I sit watching, Hannah and Her Sisters and think about the many things that come to mind on this holiday. The joy and the sorrows, the plenty and the want. And how tomorrow, as I host my first Thanksgiving Day feast for the four of us, I want to mirror my mother's grace, walk slowly, and pray for joy. 

1 comment:

Melissa Martin said...

Lovely, Emily. Happy Thanksgiving Back.