Once upon a time...A Thanksgiving Tale

Once upon a time, on a Thanksgiving Day many years ago, there was a man who had a wife and kids he dearly loved. This man worked very hard every single day so he could support his little family and keep a roof over their heads, food on their table and shoes on their feet.

But with times being what they were and his paycheck being what it was, it was often difficult for this man to make ends meet. It was the 1970s and in this economically depressed area, no one was having it easy. This man wondered how on earth he would manage to pay for the Thanksgiving dinner his family deserved and also Christmas presents, since that was just around the corner, and he had money enough for neither.

So that Thanksgiving morning he grabbed his gun and headed out the door. He would hit the woods and hoped to be successful in his quest to bring home something good for his family's dinner. It was all he knew to do. He had been raised to care for his own. He would not ask for help.

That same Thanksgiving Day my Daddy had to run out for some forgotten something. I don't even remember now what it was exactly that took him away from the house that day, but that is not the important part of this story anyway. The important part is simply that he did leave the house. And while he was gone he ran into this man who was walking along with a gun, looking as if he might be going hunting.

Daddy returned to our house a little while later and told us what he had learned. This man, someone who had worked with Daddy and who Daddy knew to be honest and hardworking, was up against hard times. He was struggling to put a meal on the table for his family. And on Thanksgiving, of all days.

So Daddy said he was packing a box of food. Canned vegetables, fruit, potatoes, bread, butter. You name it, Daddy was going to load it up right. He couldn't bear the thought of anyone, let alone children, going hungry. It just wasn't right.

While Daddy was packing that box, Mom was mashing the potatoes, deviling the eggs and basting the turkey. That beautiful, golden bird was ready to be put on the table.

But not our table. We could never sit down and enjoy a single bite of that meal knowing that there was another family not so very far away who had nothing to eat. So everything was packed up and loaded into Daddy's car. And we made do with whatever else it was we had in the kitchen.

And that, my friends, was a very happy Thanksgiving. : )

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This story is true. I don't remember it well because I was very young when it happened, but I wanted to share it with you this Thanksgiving season.
From time to time I want to share a 'Daddy Story' with you because these are the
things that shaped my life as a child growing up in a small town in WV.
These are the things that helped to make me who I am today.
These are the things that made my Daddy special, not only to me but to all who knew him.
And while you will never know him, you can know of him.
I think his life can continue to touch others even though he's been gone nearly 13 years.

May your Thanksgiving blessings be abundant and may you share those blessings with others. That truly is what it's all about. : )

Here is a link to another Daddy Story I shared last year. Enjoy. : )