Come close and I'll tell you a secret ...
On Thursday November 25, our nation will be celebrating something called Thanksgiving Day. Last I heard it was some kind of national holiday or something. Never hear much about it anymore, though. It seems like the tv shows, theatres and stores start whooping it up for the non-holiday called Hallowe'en about mid-September, and as soon as it passes, they go full-bore for Christmas.
In the last few years, it seems like Veterans Day, on November 11, is getting a little more recognition and respect, and that's certainly good. But somewhere along the way, Thanksgiving, which used to be a big-time celebration, seems to have got lost in the shuffle.
And that's too bad, because giving thanks for all of our blessings seems - to me at least - to be a much more important reason to celebrate than whatever it is we celebrate on Hallowe'en.
And that's what Thanksgiving is about - not turkey and all the trimmings, not football or basketball games, not getting together with family and friends. Although all of those things are among the things about which many people can be thankful, the giving of thanks is what the holiday is about, not the things themselves.
I don't know - maybe Thanksgiving's image suffers because it doesn't have a lot of cute songs - "Thanksgiving Carols?" or such.
A reader, Marlene Cave, recently dropped off a poem which she composed a "couple of years ago," when she was a 7th grade student in a Lyon County school, and maybe we can make this a part of the Thanksgiving tradition.
"What a Turkey Says" by Marlene (Schoeneman) Cave, Grade 7 -
Ducks are hiding, geese are flying,
The turkeys are running away.
And if you ask to know just why,
They'll sob, "'Tis Thanksgiving Day."
Lately, the farmer has been so nice.
Each day he has been feeding us twice.
He says he wants us all "just right,"
So on Thanksgiving Day, we'll make his belt tight.
Today I saw him sharpen his axe.
You see I saw him through the cracks
Of the barnyard wall, where we were hatched
From the eggs the farmer, at the market, snatched.
I wish us fowls could have something to say
About this so-called Thanksgiving Day.
If we are raised and meant to eat,
I don't think turkey life is very sweet.
The farmer's children are looking sad,
I guess they know the farmer is bad.
Oh well, I know someone will care,
So I hope they will get their Thanksgiving Day share.
Well, that doesn't really give thanks, either. Kinda cute, though. Thanks, Marlene. Maybe this will encourage other children and/or adults to write their own Thanksgiving poems. And maybe, some of them will actually reflect on giving thanks for our blessings - something we should do every day, not just one day out of the year.