by Ralph Waldo Emerson
For each new morning with its light,
For rest and shelter of the night,
For health and food,
For love and friends,
For everything thy goodness sends.
I've got the menu planned, it's the standard traditional fare. Turkey, stuffing, green bean casserole, lots of pie. My brother and sis-in-law are bringing the mashed potatoes and candied yams. My folks are bringing the drinks. College Girl will be making the deviled eggs, and Boy Kid will be making the leaves on which we'll each write three things we're thankful for. Then we'll throw those leaves in a basket. At dinner we'll pass around the basket of leaves and take turns reading the one we pick while the rest of us try to guess who wrote it.
Unlike so many Thanksgivings I have experienced in the now-distant past, there will be no raised voices. No feuds. No fists, no malice, no belittling comments. No drama. Any tears will be caused by joy, laughing too hard, or chopping onions. More than all of my many blessings, I am so grateful to be able to spend this day with my wonderful present-day family.
Whether or not you do Thanksgiving,