Thanksgiving Wth Smooth Stones

It was one of those magical holidays that seemed all Northern Lights and double rainbows.....

Butterfly came home for Thanksgiving break with Boyfriend, and I was thrilled to have all my babies sleep under one roof again. There’s something truly restful in rest when I can lie down for the night, knowing that my family is safe and accounted for. Until you have that experience in motherhood, you really don’t understand. I had a good few days of laughter and yummy food with the family, and heartfelt talks with my daughter.

On Thanksgiving morning, I stuck the buttered-up turkey into the oven, and we went to my parents for a lovely brunch. We arrived home three hours later, and the turkey was done to perfection; perfectly cooked and golden brown. I’ve only made about five Thanksgiving turkeys in my life, because most years we eat elsewhere. But when I make a turkey, it’s usually an education in patience. The turkey never seems to cook as quickly as it’s supposed to, and the popper is a tease who just suggests, by popping out, that the turkey may be done. Or it could be lying, and the turkey is still dripping a pink fluid and harboring botulism. It can be confusing and frustrating, but this year was the exception. The turkey was moist and tender and scrumptious as soon as we arrived home and were ready for it. It was beyond easy. Every dish seemed delectable this year, and Little Squirt, who was my kitchen helper, took all the credit.

When looking for some candlesticks the day before, I had found a bag of smooth stones in my cabinet. I placed three by each place setting, and, during dinner, asked each family member to think about times over the past year that they were grateful for. Amazingly, there was no rolling of the eyes from my teens. The tallest to the smallest participated with earnest. Each was thoughtful and contemplative as they shared stories of gratitude, and tossed their stones into the basket at the centerpiece. At the end of the dinner, the basket was full to the brim with smooth stones; visual remembrances of God’s love and provision for our family. And I saw deeper into the hearts of each of my children.

Our close friends came for dessert, later, and we sat in front of the fireplace and stuffed ourselves with various pies and cheesecake. It was the perfect end to the evening.

I’ve had some miserable holidays over my lifetime. We’ve been bombarded, on some Thanksgivings, with illnesses, annoyances or dysfunctions. But not this year. This year was pretty Norman Rockwell. It was magic.