Holidays Remembered

I grew up in a family where Thanksgiving was not just a holiday to express gratitude for another year of blessing, but was also a time for my mother to lovingly create a romantic picture of culinary bliss. The fresh turkey ordered weeks in advance was brined the night before. Bread dough for home made crescent rolls, and cinnamon rolls for our breakfast made the kitchen smell like the best bakeries in the world as I went to bed to dream of the glory of the coming day. And when the big day arrived, the rehearsed movements meant a seamless production of the perfect ‘Martha approved’ Thanksgiving, with just enough down home charm to warrant a Saturday Evening Post cover.
I felt the pride of a child born to the blessings of a mother who took her role as hostess seriously, and showed her prowess in a soft appealing way that wasn’t showy, and yet could hardly escape notice. I cherished those moments, and the feeling of awe and wonder they stirred in me. And when we were joined by extended family the magic intensified. My gratitude was for the experience of knowing such opulence (which ironically was attained on a shoestring budget.)
Christmas was similarly decadent, even in the years when money was so tight my parents made Christmas happen for nearly nothing. It was the spirit behind the thing. My mother’s loving hands toiling to show love, and to inspire it. Maybe that’s why I love Christmas year round. I just can’t get enough of it!
This Thanksgiving I am thankful for my present, my future, and my past!