Thanksgiving Memories

  Thanksgiving happens to be my very favorite holdiay. The expectations are few, other than having a good dinner. If it comes out of a box, thats OK too. Too many people have their expectations of family gatherings set too high. The memories I would like to share with you are varied. You be the judge!
    In 1986 I lived in east central Illinois. I hated living there as I felt I would never "fit in." I didn't blend in with the solemn scenery. I longed for acceptance in a town that you had to be born there to be accepted. I liked to wear bright colors in a town that blended in with the bleakness of the background of an elevator. At Thanksgiving time, the day light turned into darkness at around 4 p.m. As an "outcast" I was always saying and doing the wrong things. I remember addressing a group of women in our newcomers meeting. All of the important women of the town were there and I mispronounced a word. I realized I mispronounced the word after viewing the eyes of the prominent women there and the silence present in the room was enough to make me weep. I looked at the back of the room and announced..........it's the SOUTHERN pronunciation! We southern women have always been judged by certain people as not being quite as bright as the average Josephine. So let them think they are the better ones, what does it matter......it matters only to them.
   This particular year I decided to invite as many family members as I could to attend my Thanksgiving celebration. Little did I know that most would show up to this soiree. Little did I know that they would all decide to bring pecan pies! Why, oh why, did they want me to judge the best pecan pie? I didn't even know it was a contest. How was I to decide this? They were all special in their own way.....oh face it, pecan pies are pecan pies! I decided to go to each and every one (6 in all) and tell them that theirs was the best one, but that did not suffice. They wanted me to elaborate on their pie. My father and I never really got along very well, but he was sure I would pick his! It was my duty as HIS daughter. I thought about this for a long time and decided that I had to give a thumbs up for all of them and try to explain to people how unique their pie was. I pulled it off! Somehow they all seemed to think thier pie was the best. To tell you the truth I can't even look at a pecan pie to this day. It's ooey, gooey, sticky, rich and just plain ole yucky tome.
   The same year a neighbor of mine, the example of the perfect little politically correct east -central Illinois doctors wife decided to reach out to the homeless. It was her mission that year. I am sure we all know this type of woman, the one who names her kids with the same first letter, dresses them in designer clothes, (including their underware) goes to all of the PTA meetings with her perfect little vanilla cupcakes for everybody to sample along with the recipe printed out for everybody. We have run into her, haven't we?  Well this year she decided, bless her little heart, to reach out to the homeless. It was her "calling!" They needed her and her talents! She fixed a meal that Martha Stewart would be envious of, turkey, dressing (4 different kinds) only fresh ingredients and making her own bread for the dressing was simply a must.along with all of  the trimmings.(Come to think of it, Martha S. would probably love a good dinner.) Now she must "slum it" and find the homeless. She went to the poorest part of town and down by the creek, under the viaduct, she found a group of people and annoucned, "I am here, and here is your dinner.....I made all of it myself and I know you will love it as I know you haven't eaten in days!" Please enjoy and know I am thinking of you TODAY! (Screw the other 364 days of the year, I am fixing your meal TODAY!)
   The response was not one she was expecting. They told her to "Get out of here and go home, we don't need YOU!" She was appalled! When they threw the turkey at her, she decided to leave.If ever a person deserved having a turkey thrown at them, she was it. She drove home to feed her own family, after all they would appreciate the wonderful talents she possessed! They would desire her wonderful meal and be so thankful they had a mother and wife as "special" as she was. Arriving home she was agahst! Entering her home her saw her beloved dog, Smoochie, devouring her Thanksgiving turkey, the special turkey that had been brined in a special herb mixture, with salt from the dead sea. Well, the dog lived, even though she vowed to kill him. She drove back to the creek, under the viaduct to look for the turkey that the homeless threw at her, to salvage it for her family, only to discover it was gone. She went home to face her family and they had a Thanksgiving feast of cranberry sauce, mashed potatoes, and soup.   Poor thing! Pity!  It still brings a smile to my face.  God love the homeless, they are good judges of character, aren't they?     I may be a Saturday's Child, but darlins' I respect the homeless!     Anne

Judith Heartsong's November's Artsy Essay