To You … With Love,

The Thanksgiving

As Thanksgiving comes, I run away to yesterday, where everything was so simple and so free.

Thanksgiving was just one more day for chicken, because chicken was what roosted in the hen house. Country cooking left the fragrance of soft spices permeating in the nostrils and the best of the rest, my Aunt Eva's mincemeat pies. She made them out of the real stuff where nothing else came close to making the day any better than that.

Our family was small, compared to the lot I've gathered in along the way, still it was a good family, solid and sure, untouched by grand displays.

Here, Thanksgiving always happened in the soul of one family whose gratitude was found in the gifts of plain folk celebrating the joy of each other. I still pull up the chairs around my table of today to feast with the memory of something fine that once belonged to me on the day we call Thanksgiving.

Prayers and blessings to each of you.

Happy Thanksgiving.

Rev. Avis Richardson (retired)