Is a very special holiday, for it is national, religious, and nonsectarian. It has, so far, escaped-most of the commercialism that surrounds Christmas.

And it is particularly a family holiday, a time for home-coming.  I have always loved the exciting, wonderful Christmas celebration, although more and more I hear people saying they wish it were over because they are so tired.

But Thanksgiving does mean the giving of thanks to God, and it is a holiday belonging only to our country, reminding us of the Pilgrims who found  a day in the midst  of their battle for survival to praise God and ask for tor His blessing.

The traditional turkey has lost its grandeur since turkey is available any time of the  year. There isn’t anything special about vegetables out of season either, for they are always in stock along with fruit and mincemeat for pies. But the gathering of families around the table has the beauty of tradition this day.



Florence Ray

A very long, long time ago

In England far away

Were Pilgrim folks who thought it wise

To leave their homes one day,

That they might find another land

Where free they all would be

To build a church of their own choice

And worship peacefully.


To freedom, then, across the sea

And westward many a week

They sailed the sturdy Mayflower

In weather rough and bleak.

The voyage, was a  dreary one,

The days were long and gray,

And restless children on the ship

Found little room to play.


At last the Pilgrims sighted land.

America, they found, where they could live

and Worship God

Upon that precious ground.

With homes to build and fields to plow

Their plans were swiftly laid.

It was not very long before

A village they had made.


The colored leaves began to tail;

The ducks and geese flew high;

The setting sun hung’ red and low

 Along the western sky.

While autumn’s rich mellow days

Were at their very best,

The Pilgrims then proclaimed a day

To worship, feast, and rest.


Oh, what a hustle! What a stir!

To plan the feast and bake

The puddings, pies, and loaves of bread,

And even johnnycake,

To roast the turkeys and the deer,

To bake  the clams they found.

The air was filled with luscious smells

From kitchens all around.


And then the Indian guests arrived

To share the heaping trays;

Their fellowship was Heaven blest,

And friends they all did  stay.

The time to feast had come at last

And then a time for play,

All underneath the autumn sun

That first Thanksgiving day.