Almost Missed – Thanksgiving

Long ago in another world one of the men in my church invited me to take about 20 extra turkeys that an organization he was a member of had left over from a fund raiser and give them to people in our community who needed a thanksgiving meal.

I left early the next morning anxious to get the turkeys to the people I felt sure would not have such a treat for thanksgiving. The first house I came to was up a mud hill, slick, soft and messy. The house looked like it would tumble off the hill at any moment. When the mother of the family came to the door I recognized her as a parent of some of the children we were ministering to in our church.  With great excitement I handed her the almost 20 pound bird, frozen like a great chunk of ice expecting her eyes to light up with great appreciation and thanksgiving. Instead she looked at me and said, “Bro. Ivan what am I suppose to do with this turkey?” I explained that it was a gift from an organization in our town and that she should put it in the sink, keep it covered with water and let it thaw out over night so she could cook it the next day. She looked at me like I was from space and said, “I don’t have no sink.” Not to be beaten I told her to just put it in a pan of water and keep the water fresh. “Got no pan big enough for that thing.” She said, “besides you know how far I have to go for water, why it would take me ten trips up that hill in the back with all of that mud just to keep it covered with fresh water. Besides she said, I ant’s got no pan big enough and it sure wont fit in my little over.” By this time I was ready to slide down the hill throwing the great frozen bird to the varmints. But somewhere and somehow God got the best of me so I said, “Hey I got you and I understand, now don’t prepare a thanksgiving meal, and tell all your neighbors not to prepare one, I will be back on Thursday, just hang in there.” “Hanging is about right,” she said, “that is about all we do up here on this muddy hill. Thanksgiving ant no big day for us we just be eating our oatmeal like usual.” I took the bird, looked at the broken hearted and hungry children standing around and as I slid down the hill and hollowed, “Don’t eat that Oatmeal.”

Long to short the ladies in our church took the turkeys and cooked meals for all of the families in the hollow. On Thursday true to my word, along with a dozen nicely dressed ladies the mud hills were cover with turkey dinners being delivered to all of the family in the hollow. Children screamed, looked at the great legs of the bird, and beautiful pies, a few mothers cried, and I ran down the hill believing I was General Patton, with mission accomplished. I don’t think Judge Jerry Scott ever knew how many people his turkeys had fed on that almost missed thanksgiving.


Published in: on November 28, 2013 at 9:30 am  Leave a Comment  

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