I Remember…
When I was growing up we always spent Thanksgiving day with my aunt’s family. Some years there would be upwards of forty people gathered together to share the day, and always tons of food that the various family members would bring.
One Thanksgiving I will never forget. This particular year one of the relatives had cooked a huge, beautifully browned turkey. I remember that it looked and smelled so wonderful, and everyone was complimenting the cook on how perfect it looked.
When it was finally time to eat, we all sat down at the various tables that had been set up, the blessing was said, and my uncle picked up a knife and started to carve the turkey.
He cut one slice, then another.
And we all watched with horrified fascination as pink liquid oozed out of the turkey with every cut… and everyone realized that despite the picture perfect exterior, the inside of the turkey was still practically raw.
I also remember that what could have been a disaster was not. My aunt very calmly suggested that we postpone the meal and let the turkey cook for a while longer, and that is what we did. It wasn’t a big deal for anyone. The conversations continued… the kids played… and eventually the turkey did get done, and we all sat down to dinner again.
I remember the raw turkey, but more than that I remember the feeling of love and togetherness that was there in that house that day. THAT is what Thanksgiving is really about.
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