As we age, memories of times with family often become more precious. What precious memories or traditions of the Thanksgiving holiday to you treasure?
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Life is great at St. Anne's!
Life is great at St. Anne's!
As we age, memories of times with family often become more precious. What precious memories or traditions of the Thanksgiving holiday to you treasure?
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Susan McLaughlin commented: Thanksgiving is a wonderful time for relatives to share fun times and conversations with thankful hearts. Special thanks to God is behind this holiday. We give thanks for all we have and appreciate special times.
Sr. Elaine commented: We roasted a duck that we had raised instead of turkey; we had the usual mashed potatoes, peas, and cranberries with orange rind. Aunt Mary, Uncle George, and cousin Frank came over
I loved you 86,400 seconds quote. And I love thanksgiving, seems to me where there is thanksgiving there is more joy. Something the world needs more of these days. joy!
In 1952, my dad drove to the Farmer’s Market in Detroit and found 2 little boys selling their pet turkey. The boys said it was to earn money for Christmas gifts. My dad had a soft heart and bought the live turkey and even purchased the cage. He tied the cage into the trunk of his car and drove home. Since it was still a week from Thanksgiving and since our freezer was only a 12″ x 12″ x 12″ cube, the turkey had to be kept alive until the very last day. Dad went to the hardware store and bought wire fencing, sawdust and cracked corn to accommodate the turkey in a corner of our garage. The turkey was very friendly and would eat out of your hand, so we took him out several times and had our photo taken with him. One day, the gas company man came to read the meter, which was down in our basement. Mom & I were in the bedroom and heard him yell “GAS MAN!”. From the garage came a loud reply, “GOBBLE, GOBBLE, GOBBLE, GOBBLE, GOBBLE!!!!”. The gas man spun on his heels and surveyed the area. Mom opened the door for him and he descended into the basement. As he hurried back out, he stopped and asked mom, “Excuse me, can you tell me what language that is you speak?” HA, HA! We all laughed when we thought about it. As it turned out, dad couldn’t find it in his heart to kill the turkey, so it was transported to my grandpa, who killed and dressed the bird, which mom cooked to perfection on Thanksgiving Day. Needless to say, my daddy and I could eat everything but the turkey. And, mom disguised it very cleverly in several dishes in order for us to finish it.