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Also see Autumn and Gratitude and Appreciation.
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(Many of these page toppers were compiled by Jean Gifford. They are for free distribution only.)
May your stuffing be tasty,
may your turkey be plump.
May your potatoes 'n gravy
have nary a lump.
May your yams be delicious,
may your pies take the prize,
may your thanksgiving dinner
stay off of your thighs!!
May your thanksgiving
truly be blessed!!
Come, ye thankful people, come,
Raise the song of harvest-home;
All is safely gathered in,
Ere the winter storms begin;
God, our Maker, doth provide
For our wants to be supplied;
Come to God's own temple, come,
Raise the song of harvest-home.
(Elsie Melchert Fowler)
Thanksgiving is coming, I wonder if I
Will get a big piece of brown pumpkin pie?
Perhaps I'll have sweet juicy mince pie instead,
And a big bowl of raisins and fat apples red.
"Do have my plum pudding," my grandma will say;
She always makes pudding for Thanksgiving Day.
But first I'll see turkey, breast up, on a platter,
I wonder if this year he's bigger and fatter?
When asked if I'd rather have dark meat or white
I'll say, "Some of both," for that's being polite!
Next potatoes, all mashed up with gravy on top.
I'll eat every bit of it up till I stop,
And after I've eaten my dinner, why then
My grandma will pass the plum pudding again!
On the night before Thanksgiving
When I had gone to bed
I heard three turkey gobblers
And this is what they said.
The first turkey said
I think I'll find a tree
And hide up in the branches
Where no one will see.
The second turkey said
I think that I will go
And hide behind the haystack
Where no one will know.
The third turkey said
I think it would be fun
To hide the farmer's hatchet
And run, run, run, run.
Then on Thanksgiving morning
When the farmer came around
Those three turkey gobblers
Were nowhere to be found!
The Turkey is a funny bird,
His head goes wobble wobble.
But all that he can ever say,
Is Gobble, Gobble, Gobble.
(Mrs. Paul E. King)
There's a sound of merry laughter
Pealing out from down the lane,
And the bells on horse's bridles
Make a happy noise again.
The turkey's in the oven,
Roasting to a golden brown;
The table's fixed so ten or twelve
Or more can sit around.
The pumpkin and the mincemeat pies
Cool temptingly nearby;
The house smells spicy and fragrant-sweet
From flaky, fresh-baked pie.
The noise is growing louder,
There's loud stomping now of feet!
The door swings wide and voices shout,
"Hi, folks! We're starved! When do we eat?"
Silence fills the dear old house,
Each member bows his head
As Father thanks the Lord above
For such a bounteous spread.
Then the sound of merry laughter
Fills the house with joy and play . . .
Oh, it's grand to be with those you love
And share Thanksgiving Day.
God is Good
Thank God for dirty dishes;
A Child's Grace
Turkeys come and turkeys go
O, heavenly Father:
We thank thee for food and remember the hungry.
We thank thee for health and remember the sick.
We thank thee for friends and remember the friendless.
We thank thee for freedom and remember the enslaved.
May these remembrances stir us to service.
That the gifts to us may be used for others. Amen.
Turkeys will thaw in the morning, then warm in the oven to an afternoon high near 390F. The kitchen will turn hot and humid, and if you bother the cook, be ready for a severe squall or cold shoulder.
During the late afternoon and evening, the cold front of a knife will slice through the turkey, causing an accumulation of one to two inches on plates..
Mashed potatoes will drift across one side while cranberry sauce creates slippery spots on the other. Please pass the gravy.
A weight watch and indigestion warning has been issued for the entire area, with increased stuffiness around the beltway.
During the evening, the turkey will diminish and taper off to leftovers, dropping to a low of 34F in the refrigerator.
Looking ahead to Friday and Saturday, high pressure to eat sandwiches will be established. Flurries of leftovers can be expected both days with a fifty percent chance of scattered soup late in the day. We expect
a warming trend where soup develops. By early next week, eating pressure will be low as the only wish left will be the bone.
(Lydia Maria Child)
Over the river and through the wood,
To Grandfather's house we go;
The horse knows the way
To carry the sleigh
Through the white and drifted snow.
Over the river and through the wood--
Oh, how the wind does blow!
It stings the toes
And bites the nose,
As over the ground we go.
Over the river and through the wood
Trot fast, my dapple-gray!
Spring over the ground,
Like a hunting-hound!
For this is Thanksgiving Day.
Over the river and through the wood,
And straight through the barnyard gate.
We seem to go
It is so hard to wait.
Over the river and through the wood--
Now Grandmother's cap I spy!
Hurrah for the fun!
"Is the pudding done?
Hurrah for the pumpkin-pie!"
This is the day of families.
The member who smokes the big black cigars that stink up the entire house for three months.
The kid who doesn't even say hello, but start pounding on the piano with their fists until conversation is no longer possible.
The couple who always pull up in a brand-new car when you know they have $2 in their pockets and are afraid to answer their own phone.
The dominant in-law who arrives just when you sit down to eat and leaves right after dessert is served.
The one who works like a field hand from the moment she arrives until after the last dish is put away.
The uncle who teases the dog.
The one who never forgets to say grace.
The kid who refuses to eat in the kitchen with the other children and ends up sitting on Mama's lap at the table.
What has brought all of them together? Does anyone remember anymore?
When you think of it, what is "family"? A psychological study that got out of hand? A genetic blind date? A group of people related by bad debts? The results of a steering committee that didn't meet regularly?
Actually, they're mirrors of every facet of your life. They know you better than anyone in the world and are willing to overlook and forget. They've seen you at your best and your worst. Often, they're a colossal bore. They've told the same stories a hundred times, but sometimes the familiarity is like an old bathrobe . . . too old to brag about in public, but too good to discard yet.
Like it or not, you're bound to them by your history.
I think about families a lot at Thanksgiving . . . even more than at Christmas. Maybe it's because Thanksgiving offers no incentive for being together except that elusive, mysterious tie that binds us together.
All I know is . . . I would kill to see my grandfather smoking those stinking cigars, my uncle teasing that poor dog, my Mom bustling around the kitchen helping Grandma, and me banging that piano with my fists . . . just one more time.
For the teenager who is not doing dishes but is watching TV,
Because that means he is at home and not on the streets.
For the taxes that I pay,
Because it means that I am employed.
For the mess to clean after a party,
Because it means that I have been surrounded by friends.
For the clothes that fit a little too snug,
Because it means I have enough to eat.
For my shadow that watches me work,
Because it means I am out in the sunshine.
For a lawn that needs mowing, windows that
need cleaning, and gutters that need fixing,
Because it means I have a home.
For all the complaining I hear about the government,
Because it means that we have freedom of speech.
For the parking spot I find at the far end
of the parking lot,
Because it means I am capable of walking
and that I have been blessed with transportation.
For my huge heating bill,
Because it means I am warm.
For the lady behind me in church that sings off key,
Because it means that I can hear.
For the pile of laundry and ironing,
Because it means I have clothes to wear.
For weariness and aching muscles at the end of the day,
Because it means I have been capable of working hard.
For the alarm that goes of in the early morning hours,
Because it means that I am alive and have a reason to get up.
And finally . . .
For too much e-mail,
Because it means I have friends who are thinking of me. :>)
Why did Pilgrims' pants always fall down?
Because they wore their belt buckle on their hat.
(By Robin K.)
I'm doing a luncheon for friends in November as fall and Thanksgiving are my favorite times of year. This will be their Christmas gift from me. On the invitation it will advise them to bring TEN pictures ONLY of photos of things/people that they are thankful for in their life (husband, kids, house, church, friends, etc.) I will give each person a sentiments album and have it engraved on the front, "Thanksgiving Blessings 2011". After lunch, I will provide the supplies and they will adhere the photos and journal on the opposite page what this picture means to them and how thankful they are for that person/thing in their life. There will be very little decorating--maybe some paper and a few stickers.
This serves several purposes:
1) It let's them know how much I appreciate their friendship;
2) Christmas gifts for all my friends are done in November;
3) They will be creating something that will last forever and bring smiles and tears to their eyes and their hearts;
4) It's good for my business. Many of my friends think it's too hard to do albums. If this doesn't convince them nothing will!
For customers, you could skip the lunch part (or do something simple); pre-package the kits with ten sheets of paper and a few die-cuts/stickers. It can be completed in about an hour. Charge a fee that covers the cost of album, supplies and your time.
Thanksgiving is a very busy time for most people, but try to take a few minutes to impress upon your children the blessings God has given.
Decorate an empty box to use as a bank. Once a day for the next 38 days, place offerings in it. Decide with the children to whom to give this gift. On Ephiphany, when according to tradition, the Kings gave their gifts to the Christ Child, you can give the gift. Each day, the children will be able to reflect upon their blessings.
There is a similar idea in the Christmas file.