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Wholesome Stories about small-town people searching for what they lost

This Thanksgiving, Hubby and I were alone, but we didn’t mind. We usually fix a big traditional dinner with turkey, dressing, pumpkin pie, and all the fixings. Hubby loves turkey; me, not so much. Last year, we cooked a huge turkey and ate on it until summer, thanks to our freezer.

This year, we tried something different. We went out to eat at Golden Corral. Hubby had his favorite turkey wing; I had steak. He had fried shrimp; I had a very thin slice of white turkey meat with dressing (I love dressing). He had pumpkin pie; I had chocolate chess pie. We were both happy and full, but Hubby misses the leftovers.

As I looked around the restaurant, I was struck by how many tables were filled with two people. Some were obviously couples like us, others were fathers and daughters or mothers and daughters. I was moved by the tables with only one person sitting at it and wondered why they were alone. Was he a trucker that found himself there on his route? Was she unable to go be with family? Would any of them want to sit with us and talk? I didn’t ask them since most were already settled and eating.

Years ago, we had The Thanksgiving With No Leftovers. Our son was in college, and he brought home a couple of his friends who didn’t get to go home over the holiday. Hubby and I baked a huge turkey and all the side dishes and desserts worthy of a feast. I’ve never seen boys eat that much before. They cleaned up most of the turkey, all the sides, and most of the desserts. What was left, we wrapped up and sent it back to the dorm with them. It was one of my favorite Thanksgivings.

I don’t wait for a particular day to be thankful. It’s a daily exercise. I’m thankful to live in a free country, thankful to those in the military keeping me safe where I live, thankful to law enforcement people for keeping me safe in my home, thankful for farmers and ranchers who grow our food, thankful for truckers who bring it to us, thankful for carpenters who gave me a warm place to live out of the elements, thankful for running water and sanitary sewer systems, thankful for the internet to stay in touch with faraway family and friends, thankful for friends who love me, and thankful for my family who I can’t imagine living without. I’m pretty much thankful for everything. Please excuse me while I go give thanks to The One who keeps me in His Hand.

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I love Thanksgiving! For one day a year, people remember to be grateful for what they have. Family time is a priority. People make an effort to remember how lucky they are. I’m generalizing about the one-day-a-year part. I hope most people are thankful every day. I am.

Hubby and I were at home alone for Thanksgiving. We don’t mind, but it seems like we do twice as much work to prepare the traditional Thanksgiving meal. Hubby loves turkey; me, not so much. Last year, we cooked a big turkey and ate on it until summer (I’m thankful for my freezer). The other leftovers lasted more than a week of constant eating. I like more variety in my diet. This year, I treated Hubby to Golden Corral for Thanksgiving dinner. He could eat all the turkey he wanted and I could eat what I wanted. While he feasted on his favorite turkey wing, I had steak. While he ate fried shrimp, I enjoyed a very thin slice of white turkey meat and dressing (I love dressing). He loved the pumpkin pie, and I loved the chocolate chess pie. It seemed like the perfect solution, but we found we really miss leftovers.

While eating, I looked around the restaurant. Most of the tables were filled with one or two people. I understood why two people didn’t want to cook a feast, but my heart went out to those who were eating alone. Why were they alone? A trucker who happened to end up in Boise and stayed for a meal? Someone whose family was elsewhere and he couldn’t make the trip? Would he like to sit with someone so she had someone to talk to? I would have invited one of them over, but most were already settled and eating at their table so I didn’t bother them.

We had one holiday that we call The Thanksgiving With No Leftovers. Our son was in college and he came home with two of his friends who didn’t get to go home for the holiday. I’ve never seen three guys eat so much. They cleaned up most of the turkey and all of the side dishes and desserts. What little was left, we sent back to the dorm for snacks. It’s one of my favorite Thanksgiving memories.

I’m thankful every day. I’m thankful I was born in a free country. I’m thankful for farmers who grow our food, for truckers who bring it to us, to carpenters who gave us a place to live out of the elements, for law enforcement people who keep us safe in our homes, for those who serve in the military who keep us safe where we live, for my friends who support me emotionally, and my family who I can’t imagine life without. I must end this now so I can go say thanks to The One who holds me in His Hand.