I’ve been thinking of Thanksgiving,
Of those days so long ago,
Even though it was November, 
We’d wake up to heavy snow.


We stayed out of Mother’s kitchen; 
“We’re no help,” we’d slyly say.
But the truth was, we would rather 
Build a snowman any day.


Mother, known for her fine baking,
Always made her special rolls
Which we’d steal when she was busy
Filling up the salad bowls.


Seven kids around the table;
Looking back, it seems surreal.
Then our dad would ask the blessing
Thanking God for such a meal.


Daddy carved the roasted turkey
And we’d all begin to beg:
“It’s my turn, you had it last time!
Now I want a turkey leg!”


Mincemeat pies sat on the counter,
Pumpkin pies with cool whipped cream,
Cakes with pecans spread all over;
Oh, this was a child’s best dream!


Mom and Dad and now in heaven,
Breathing that celestial air.
I have prayed for my dear parents 
That they’ll have Thanksgiving there.

                   ~Mariane Holbrook