Thanksgiving Day in America
Thursday, November 28th, is the United States national holiday for Thanksgiving. It is celebrated the fourth Thursday of the month of November. It is supposed to commemorate the Pilgrims good harvest and still is associated with the fall foods. The turkey is an American bird and is usually eaten on the day along with cranberries, pumpkin and apple pies. If anyone wants to share in the spirit, and/or add some variety to their life they could share any one of the foods and always another day to be thankful is good.
Gratitude is the best antidote for a lot of bad moods, funks, blues, angers etc.. I am trying to rev up the gratitude a notch myself, and need some friends to join in help me catch and keep the spirit.
Too many people here will eat and shop and any real thankfulness will not be felt at all, and that is about how we live and give thanks in the USA.
well said .
Thank you, bethany.
You are so right, so many holidays are commercialized and the real meaning has been forgotten. I join in giving thanks to the many blessings I have. One is SC, it has given me new friends, shared wisdom from members, laughs, someone to talk to in lonely times, people caring how I am doing, knowledge of many cultures, things to do when I am bored, and the list could go on and on and on. I thank those who make the site possible, those who try to keep harmony, and Rose for bringing up a great subject… Thanks to you!
Linda
Linda. i am glad my thoughts resonated with you and I agree about the chat site. Isn’t it amazing what talking will do, even if it is across the world?
The late American humorist and columnist, Art Buchwald, wrote a hilarious piece, replete with fractured French about Thanksgiving. Here it is.
LE JOUR DE MERCI DONNANT
By Art Buchwald
Thursday, November 24, 2005
This confidential column was leaked to me by a high government official in the Plymouth colony on the condition that I not reveal his name.
One of our most important holidays is Thanksgiving Day, known in France as le Jour de Merci Donnant .
Le Jour de Merci Donnant was first started by a group of Pilgrims ( Pelerins ) who fled from l’Angleterre before the McCarran Act to found a colony in the New World ( le Nouveau Monde ) where they could shoot Indians ( les Peaux-Rouges ) and eat turkey ( dinde ) to their hearts’ content.
They landed at a place called Plymouth (now a famous voiture Americaine ) in a wooden sailing ship called the Mayflower (or Fleur de Mai ) in 1620. But while the Pelerins were killing the dindes, the Peaux-Rouges were killing the Pelerins, and there were several hard winters ahead for both of them. The only way the Peaux-Rouges helped the Pelerins was when they taught them to grow corn ( mais ). The reason they did this was because they liked corn with their Pelerins.
In 1623, after another harsh year, the Pelerins’ crops were so good that they decided to have a celebration and give thanks because more mais was raised by the Pelerins than Pelerins were killed by Peaux-Rouges.
Every year on the Jour de Merci Donnant, parents tell their children an amusing story about the first celebration.
It concerns a brave capitaine named Miles Standish (known in France as Kilometres Deboutish) and a young, shy lieutenant named Jean Alden. Both of them were in love with a flower of Plymouth called Priscilla Mullens (no translation). The vieux capitaine said to the jeune lieutenant :
“Go to the damsel Priscilla ( allez tres vite chez Priscilla), the loveliest maiden of Plymouth ( la plus jolie demoiselle de Plymouth). Say that a blunt old captain, a man not of words but of action ( un vieux Fanfan la Tulipe ), offers his hand and his heart, the hand and heart of a soldier. Not in these words, you know, but this, in short, is my meaning.
“I am a maker of war ( je suis un fabricant de la guerre ) and not a maker of phrases. You, bred as a scholar ( vous, qui etes pain comme un etudiant ), can say it in elegant language, such as you read in your books of the pleadings and wooings of lovers, such as you think best adapted to win the heart of the maiden.”
Although Jean was fit to be tied ( convenable tre emballe ), friendship prevailed over love and he went to his duty. But instead of using elegant language, he blurted out his mission. Priscilla was muted with amazement and sorrow ( rendue muette par l’tonnement et la tristesse ).
At length she exclaimed, interrupting the ominous silence: “If the great captain of Plymouth is so very eager to wed me, why does he not come himself and take the trouble to woo me?” ( Ou est-il, le vieux Kilometres? Pourquoi ne vient-il pas aupres de moi pour tenter sa chance ?)
Jean said that Kilometres Deboutish was very busy and didn’t have time for those things. He staggered on, telling what a wonderful husband Kilometres would make. Finally Priscilla arched her eyebrows and said in a tremulous voice, “Why don’t you speak for yourself, Jean?” ( Chacun a son gout. )
And so, on the fourth Thursday in November, American families sit down at a large table brimming with tasty dishes and, for the only time during the year, eat better than the French do.
No one can deny that le Jour de Merci Donnant is a grande fete and no matter how well fed American families are, they never forget to give thanks to Kilometres Deboutish, who made this great day possible.