“Over the river and through the woods, to Grandmother’s house we go.” I’m old enough to remember Thanksgiving like the song tells us about. Not many youngsters today will have memories of going to Grandma’s on the farm and eating of the bounties grown there.
On the contrary, today’s Thanksgivings will be held in a home in the city, or maybe in an apartment. the food is always good but it is eaten to the blaring accompaniment of the Thanksgiving Day football games. I think we owe our children more than that. Why not tell them about the hardships of the folks on the Mayflower ship and they were so thankful to God for coming to America. Then the Indians helped them learn how to plant corn and other vegetables. Those folks, along with the Indian families had a great Thanksgiving feast to God, for all their blessings. I wonder, do we even think about thanking God for all we have?
There is one Thanksgiving Day I will always remember. Daddy was the pastor and we were going, not to Grandma’s house. but to Thanksgiving Day worship service and dinner at the Torgerson farm. The whole congregation would be there! Mama had been baking her many Norwegian goodies for days, as the other women did too.
The snow was coming down through a light grey sky, but our 1930ish car made it okay. We joined other cars parking there, but most farmers brought their horses to a designated place. Most farmers depended on horses and sleighs in Northern Minnesota in the thirties. Folks were already gathered together in the parlor, but it took awhile for Mama to take off three pair of pants and snowshoes of her children before she sat down at the organ. But the opening hymn, Now Thank We All Our God was announced and the service began. The sermon was shorter, probably because Daddy could smell the turkey baking in the oven,
There never was a Thanksgiving dinner like that one. There was turkey, lutefisk, lefse, cranberries, baked squash, biscuits, creamed carrots, pickled crab apples, all kinds of salads and pies and Norwegian goodies we would have later. All was eaten on a table made up of sawhorses and long boards which looked beautiful when spread with white tablecloths.
After dinner the tables were pushed against the wall so the men could sit and spin their stories, and the women gathered in the kitchen to “clean up. We kids went outside to romp in the falling snow.
At 4pm the lamps were lit. It was time for coffee. Coffee didn’t’ just mean a mug of that hot brew, but it meant food, all kinds of Norwegian baking. When everyone had enough they gathered again in the parlor. First, they took turns, even us kids, telling what they thanked God for. After that. we had prayer and then Daddy headed for the piano. Folks knew what would happen now. He always closed every meeting with a sing along. We sang everything from Harvest Moon to What A Friend We Have In Jesus before the men began saying, “Hey. we’ll be milking late tonight,” and the rush for coats and overshoes was on.
Thanksgiving Day was over this year and I remember it though I was probably only eight years old. But no matter what you are planning for that wonderful day, please make thanking God a part of it.
GramMa's Thoughts 