Laurie L.C. Lewis's Blog: Bloggin' It Up Here, page 23

ADVENTURE WITH GRANDMA

Who doesn't love and even need a few good Christmas stories to warm their heart and remind us how small and simple acts of Christmas magic can renew souls and change lives? This is one of my favorites. Enjoy!


ADVENTURE WITH GRANDMA

by Anonymous (But I'd love to find out!)



I remember my first Christmas adventure with Grandma. I was just a kid. I remember tearing across town on my bike to visit her on the day my big sister dropped the bomb: "There is no Santa Claus," she jeered. "Even dummies know that!"

My Grandma was not the gushy kind, never had been. I fled to her that day because I knew she would be straight with me. I knew Grandma always told the truth, and I knew that the truth always went down a whole lot easier when swallowed with one of her world-famous cinnamon buns. I knew they were world-famous, because Grandma said so. It had to be true.

Grandma was home, and the buns were still warm. Between bites, I told her everything. She was ready for me. "No Santa Claus!" she snorted. "Ridiculous! Don't believe it. That rumor has been going around for years, and it makes me mad, plain mad. Now, put on your coat, and let's go."

"Go? Go where, Grandma?" I asked. I hadn't even finished my second world-famous, cinnamon bun. "Where" turned out to be Kerby's General Store, the one store in town that had a little bit of just about everything. As we walked through its doors, Grandma handed me ten dollars. That was a bundle in thosedays. "Take this money," she said, "and buy something for someone who needs it. I'll wait for you in the car." Then she turned and walked out of Kerby's.

I was only eight years old. I'd often gone shopping with my mother, but never had I shopped for anything all by myself. The store seemed big and crowded, full of people scrambling to finish their Christmas shopping. For a few moments I just stood there, confused, clutching that ten dollar bill, wondering what to buy, and who on earth to buy it for. I thought of everybody I knew: my family, my friends, my neighbors, the kids at school, and the people who went to my church. I was just about thought out, when I suddenly thought of Bobby Decker. He was a kid with bad breath and messy hair, and he sat right behind me in Mrs. Pollock's grade-two class.

Bobby Decker didn't have a coat. I knew that because he never went out for recess during the winter. His mother always wrote a note, telling the teacher that he had a cough, but all we kids knew that Bobby Decker didn't have a cough, and he didn't have a coat. I fingered the ten-dollar bill with growing excitement. I would buy Bobby Decker a coat!

I settled on a red corduroy one that had a hood to it. It looked real warm, and he would like that. "Is this a Christmas present for someone?" the lady behind the counter asked kindly, as I laid my ten dollars down. "Yes,"I replied shyly. "It's ... for Bobby." The nice lady smiled at me. I didn't get any change, but she put the coat in a bag and wished me a Merry Christmas.

That evening, Grandma helped me wrap the coat in Christmas paper and ribbons (a little tag fell out of the coat, and Grandma tucked it in her Bible) and wrote, "To Bobby, >From Santa Claus" on it -- Grandma said that Santa always insisted on secrecy. Then she drove me over to Bobby Decker's house,explaining as we went that I was now and forever officially one of Santa's helpers.

Grandma parked down the street from Bobby's house, and she and I crept noiselessly and hid in the bushes by his front walk. Then Grandma gave me a nudge. "All right, Santa Claus," she whispered, "get going." I took a deep breath, dashed for his front door, threw the present down on his step, pounded his doorbell and flew back to the safety of the bushes and Grandma. Together we waited breathlessly in the darkness for the front door to open. Finally it did, and there stood Bobby.

Fifty years haven't dimmed the thrill of those moments spent shivering, beside my Grandma, in Bobby Decker's bushes.

That night, I realized that those awful rumors about Santa Claus were just what Grandma said they were: ridiculous.

Santa was alive and well and we were on his team.

I still have the Bible, with the tag tucked inside: $19.95.Copyright 2009 Laurie LC Lewis, (To obtain permission to copy or reprint any portion of this post, please contact the author at lclewis2007@gmail.com)

Christmas Story: "ONCE IS NEVER ENOUGH"

ONCE IS NEVER ENOUGH
Christmas Story 2007by Laurie LC Lewis
John laid the Bible carefully on the end table and ruffled his young son’s head. He smiled as Ann bent low to place their toddler daughter near enough to receive a good night kiss.

“How about we say prayers with Mommy and Sarah tonight, Jacob?” John suggested as he tenderly showed Jacob how to fold his arms. With eyes misting and his heart stirred by the too frequently neglected expression, the man found it hard to begin, finding his voice more easily as his son snuggled closer.

After the amen was uttered, Ann rose and guided the children to bed, leaving John to marvel at the simple turn of events that had precipitated the change in their family that night. He scanned the table where the critical shopping lists now lay, tossed inconsequentially upon the return home, their errands left incomplete. Odd, since just a few hours earlier he and his wife had sat there with their carefully balanced checkbook, newspaper ads and their list spread between them, strategically making the decisions about whom and what to shop for.

They had divided the errands between them— his wife and Sarah setting off in one direction while he and Jacob headed in another, beneath dangling snowflakes the size of garbage can lids, past inflatable snow people and their revolving, musical village. Twice, his rambunctious five year-old had dashed off to explore the colorful display, each time earning a stern rebuke from his father. His father’s reproach only unsettled the child further until the man finally relented, allowing his son a few moments to survey the dazzling display that showcased the gems of the season—the must-have toys which were set upon blocks of rotating, plastic “ice”, beneath which the names of stores and price tags were displayed.

With hands clenching his carefully-crafted list of errands, he stared at the scene, taking in the sounds of three dozen children, each one pointing out desired items while voicing their requests aloud. Soon he heard his own son’s voice joining in the cacophony, crying out request after request for each and every item on display, and for a moment . . . for just a regrettable moment, as the crowds jostled him and the music and voices raised all around, he voiced his thoughts. “I hate Christmas. . .”

The bitterness of the words chilled his heart as soon as they passed his lips. Hungry to find Ann, to have her reset his anchor, he lifted Jacob into his arms and whispered, “Let’s hurry and find Mommy.”

Clutching his son close, he dashed off to the first store on his wife’s list. As he approached the location he saw a crowd gathered around the store’s window and he marveled at the attitudes of the people coming away from the area, speaking in soft tones, their faces as bright and soft as their smiles. Curious, he drew near and to his amazement, little Sarah was the cause of all the excitement.

On tiny toddler knees with her nose pressed to the glass, she knelt before a Nativity scene, babbling as she pointed from one character to another. “Beebee!” she cried out with excitement. “Nicey beebee!”

“Yes,” her mother whispered hoarsely. “He is a very nicy baby, Sarah. He’s a very special baby too. His name is Jesus.”

“Jesus. . .” replied Sarah with reverence equal to her mother’s. “Nicey Jesus. . .”

With a trembling finger, Ann pointed to Mary. “And this is his mommy. Her name is Mary. She didn’t have a nice crib or a soft blankie for her baby, so she had to wrap him with pieces of cloth and lay him in this soft hay. The animals kept him warm and,” she pointed out various figurines, “angels sang to him . . . and shepherds and Wise Men came to visit him.”

Sarah slid her finger along the glass until it too pointed to Mary. “Pretty mommy. . . pretty beebee.”

John stooped down, gently placing Jacob beside Sarah and sliding an arm around his wife’s shoulder. Other children were now drawing close to the scene. Gazing at them, Ann wiped a tear from her eye and smiled as she explained the moment to John. “I was standing in line at the kiosk over there, struggling with Sarah who was crying and squirming. I was at my wits end when she suddenly became still and quiet. When I checked to see why, I noticed that she was staring at this store window whispering, ‘Beebee . . . beebee. . .’ After I paid the vendor, I put her down and she ran right over here. This is what she’s been doing ever since. It’s like she gets it, you know?” she sniffed. “It’s as if this little child understands what’s most important about Christmas.”

“I know this story, don’t I, Daddy?” asked Jacob with a furrowed brow. “Didn’t you tell it to me once?”

Sliding his list into his pocket, John squeezed his wife’s hand and raised her to her feet. Each bent down and picked up one of their children, placing kisses on their cheeks. “Once is not enough for the telling of the Christmas story, Jacob. Let’s go home and read it again, tonight, because once is never enough.”

Merry Christmas!
Love,
Laurie Copyright 2009 Laurie LC Lewis, (To obtain permission to copy or reprint any portion of this post, please contact the author at lclewis2007@gmail.com)

MY FAVORITE CHRISTMAS EVE MOVIE: "THE NATIVITY STORY"

My favorite Christmas Eve movie is The Nativity Story, a magnificent telling of the Christmsas Story that somehow remains under the radar despite a stellar cast and production team.

From Moviefone: Australian-born Whale Rider sensation and Oscar nominee Keisha Castle-Hughes stars opposite Oscar Isaac in Lords of Dogtown director Catherine Hardwicke's dramatic account of the Annunciation, and the arduous journey of Mary and Joseph to give birth to baby Jesus. House of Sand and Fog's Shohreh Aghdashloo co-stars in a film with a screenplay by The Rookie and Finding Forrester scribe Mike Rich. Filmed in the village of Matera, Italy (a locale that has remained virtually untouched by modern progress and also served as the backdrop for Mel Gibson's The Passion of the Christ), and Quarzazate, Morocco, former production designer Hardwicke's film strives for authenticity in telling the Bible's most treasured tale.

I had just completed teaching the OT in Seminary when I first saw it, and I was dazzled by the historical accuracy depicted in the period and the characters. This movie is absolutely beautiful, melding cultural elements into the story that add depth to Mary's singular position, and to Joseph's spiritual dilemma. We witness the pain of Mary's parents as the town that loves thenm reacts to her pregnancy, and the fear that motivates Caesar Augustus to go to great lengths to destroy this new king. We rejoice with the three Wise Men who read the signs in the heavens marvel as they set off in search of the prophesied king.

Sometimes, the story of the birth of Christ can be too great, too marvelous to wrap our minds around, but The Nativity Story displays the miraculous in very human terms, and it leaves us changed. Christian devotees will be spellbound, and history lovers will be too. Spectacular way to personally experience the birth of Jesus Christ.

Youtube has a link to view the movie in it's entirety, but here's the purchase link. This film and its cast deserve to be viewed on your big screen.  http://www.amazon.com/The-Nativity-Story-Keisha-Castle-Hughes/dp/B000MGBM1I Merry Christmas!

Copyright 2009 Laurie LC Lewis, (To obtain permission to copy or reprint any portion of this post, please contact the author at lclewis2007@gmail.com)

Easy Christmas Morning Menu that Pleases

Christmas morning can be a daunting time for a mom, especially if you want to get something hearty and nutritious into your family before they tear into pies and cookies. It's especially difficult if you are also cooking a Christmas dinner the same day.

Years ago I found this delicious breakfast casserole recipe. The family loves it, and because it's assembled the day before, you can pop it in the oven before opening gifts and it's ready just as you finish up. We top the nutritious egg casserole off with some less nutritious but splendid and easy sweet rolls also made the evening before. These are staples of a Lewis-family holiday, and they have become as traditional as our tree.

I hope they make your Christmas morning special and peaceful!

Breakfast Casserole
This is the most delicious Put-It-Together-The-Night-Before recipe I've ever found. Perfect for a busy but special morning event.

Ingredients:
1 pound spicy pork sausage 1/4 cup onion 2 1/2 cup hash brown 5 large eggs 2 cups shredded cheese 1 3/4 cups milk 1 cup Bisquick 1/4 t. salt 1/4 t. pepper

Directions:
Cook and crumble sausage and onion together until sausage crumbles. Stir in the hash browns and cook for 5-7 minutes or until the sausage is no longer pink. Drain on paper towels, then place in a 9X13 baking dish. Mix together the eggs, cheese, and the next four ingredients. Pour over the pork mixture. Chill overnight or at least 8 hours. Bake uncovered for 45 minutes in 350 degree oven, then remove foil and bake for an additional 10-15 minutes or until a toothpick inserted into the center comes out clean.

Prep Time: 20 minutes
Cook Time: 60 minutes
Category: Breakfast
Servings: 8

Sweet Rolls

Yummy and evil!!!

Ingredients:
Frozen bread dough
2 sticks butter
cinnamon
Brown sugar
powdered sugar
few tablespoons milk
Directions:


Thaw 3 loaves of frozen bread dough until it is easy to work. Roll into a rectangle 12 inches wide by ½” thick. Spread with butter, then sprinkle cinnamon all over. Next, sprinkle a layer of brown sugar over the top. Roll up jelly roll style. Cut into 1 to 1½ inch slices. Arrange in a greased pan or pns. Let rise 2-3 times. Bake in 350 degree oven for 18-22 minutes, (until no longer doughy in center.) Frost when cool. (Frosting- Melt on low 1 stick butter. Add +-1 lb powdered sugar, 1 tsp. vanilla and 1-2 tsp. milk. I double this.)

Prep Time: 10 minutes Cook Time: 15 minutes
Category: Breakfast Servings: 12Copyright 2009 Laurie LC Lewis, (To obtain permission to copy or reprint any portion of this post, please contact the author at lclewis2007@gmail.com)

BOOK NOOK REVIEW OF MY PICK READ OF THE YEAR

A NIGHT ON MOON HILL  By
Tanya Parker Mills
(MY PICK READ OF THE YEAR!) 
            Superb writing and complex, heartrending characters combine to make A Night on Moon Hill my pick read of 2012. Author Tanya Park Mills has built an award-winning career by pulling topics and characters out of obscure corners and into the light, and in this most recent book she educates her readers while daring them to leave the next page unturned.
            Dr. Daphne Lessing is an accomplished though prickly novelist and University professor. She loves writing while merely tolerating people. Some call her narcissistic. She’s not sure what she is. She knows there is something odd about her inability to connect with people, her obsession with order, and her unwillingness to be touched, but she’s knows narcissism does not sum it up.
            She had only ever connected with one person--an equally odd boy from her high school swim team who, like her, found solace and joy in the exhaustion of swimming, and in writing. Her parents are gone now, and Daphne is alone. She likes it that way. Discipline now holds her world together, but that’s about to change drastically.
From the back of the book:

            Swimming is Daphne's one refuge until the night she finds a body in her pool.
University professor and renowned author Daphne Lessing has never felt at ease in society. But a disturbing occurrence in her once calm and controlled existence suddenly unearths events from her past and thrusts an unusual child into her life.       
            Ten-year-old Eric has Asperger's syndrome and is obsessed with fishing and angels. Soon, Daphne finds herself attached to him and faced with a choice: Does she leave him and return to her solitary, ordered life, trusting others to do right by him, or does she allow this bright child to draw her into the world she has tried to shun? And what about the man that came into Daphne's life with Eric? Will she be able to shut him out as well?
             Mills opens the book with a wrenching first scene that comes out of nowhere, and the ride begins as an intricate tale of lives altered by invisible disabilities unfolds. The author draws upon personal experience to flesh out her complex, conflicted, but intensely human characters. Her personal understanding of Asperger’s takes the reader into the minds of those affected by the syndrome. Those touched by similar disabilities will find the book fascinating on that level alone, but all readers will appreciate the struggle of flawed characters attempting to rise above the past, to pierce self-imposed limits to be more, to do better, to live larger.
            The catastrophic event that launches the story may pose a challenge to some readers. For that reason I’d advise parents to read the book first before handing it off to a teen, but Mills handles the circumstance with grace, and leaves the final judgment to the reader.
Mills commands language, crafting scenes with scalpel-like precision. Every page is delicious. This is great storytelling that will enlighten and intrigue. This is not a message book. A Night on Moon Hill is a tender drama wrapped around a satisfying mystery with the intensity of a spine-tingling suspense novel. In short, this book delivers.

In Paperback
On Amazon Kindle Copyright 2009 Laurie LC Lewis, (To obtain permission to copy or reprint any portion of this post, please contact the author at lclewis2007@gmail.com)

AN ACCOUNTANT EXPLAINS WHAT THE FISCAL CLIFF WILL REALLY MEAN TO US

A responsible, compassionate accountant wanted his clients to give his clients a true picture of how the looming fiscal cliff would affect them. This is what he explained to them.





Copyright 2009 Laurie LC Lewis, (To obtain permission to copy or reprint any portion of this post, please contact the author at lclewis2007@gmail.com)

WIN $100 WORTH OF BOOKS: I'M GIVING AWAY AN ENTIRE 5-VOLUME SET OF "FREE MEN AND DREAMERS" THIS CHRISTMAS!

Here's a fun gift opportunity either for yourself or for a reader on your Christmas list. I'm trying to advance a new Facebook author page and to encourage old and new friends to follow me over to my new digs, I'm holding a drawing open only to followers of that new page.

Yes, it's an overt bribe, but this package is worth over $100, so it's a pretty good one, right?

I'm giving away a complete 5-volume set of my highly praised "Free Men and Dreamers" series. Three of these books garnered national praise, and I believe the collection provides one of the most comprehensive glimpses of key moments in American history, all wrapped in a tender story about this first American-born generation.

The drawing opens today. Just be or become a follower of that page by "liking" it, then drop down and post a comment right there that says you "liked" the page. You can visit and post once a day. For each comment posted by December 15th you will earn one entry.

The winner will be chosen after midnight on the 16th. They can designate to whom they want the books personalized. I will autograph each volume and personally inscribe a message to the recipient to make these a truly personal gift. Then, as per the winner's request, I will gift wrap and ship the books within the continental U.S.

For old Facebook friends, follow me on both! I thank you for all the support you've given my work over the years, but I'll be posting books news primarily on this new page form now on. For new Facebook friends, welcome! I'm looking forward to chatting. I hope you'll enjoy reading about my progress on my new piece, "The Rabbits of Alsace Farm."

Visit my website for a glimpse.

Good luck in the drawing!  Merry Christmas!


Copyright 2009 Laurie LC Lewis, (To obtain permission to copy or reprint any portion of this post, please contact the author at lclewis2007@gmail.com)

A PRACTICAL TWIST ON GIVING "THE 12 DAYS OF CHRISTMAS"

Many thanks to Kay Curtis, Diva behind Cedar Fort's "Books and Things" catalog for sharing this clever, cute Christmas idea.

"Books and Things" advertises great books, art, music, and other great LDS-themed products, but Kay always tucks something free and fun into each edition. Sometimes it's an FHE idea. Sometimes it's a recipe. This month's edition will feature a lovely and meaningful Family Preparedness gifting idea based on the 12 Days of Christmas, and Kay is letting me share it a bit early.

The set includes a poem sheet that explains the plan, and twelve poemed tags for each item. Here's a sample of the cute tags and poems that accompany each of the twelve items, but visit "Books and Things" online catalog to download the entire set.


Copyright 2009 Laurie LC Lewis, (To obtain permission to copy or reprint any portion of this post, please contact the author at lclewis2007@gmail.com)

FOR WHAT AM I GRATEFUL?

(I share this excerpt from a talk given by Thomas S. Monson, President of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, during the October 2010 General Conference. It's one of my favorites. Happy Thanksgiving. I hope it adds to your holiday.)

I share with you an account of one family which was able to find blessings in the midst of serious challenges. This is an account I read many years ago and have kept because of the message it conveys. It was written by Gordon Green and appeared in an American magazine over 50 years ago.

Gordon tells how he grew up on a farm in Canada, where he and his siblings had to hurry home from school while the other children played ball and went swimming. Their father, however, had the capacity to help them understand that their work amounted to something. This was especially true after harvesttime when the family celebrated Thanksgiving, for on that day their father gave them a great gift. He took an inventory of everything they had.

On Thanksgiving morning he would take them to the cellar with its barrels of apples, bins of beets, carrots packed in sand, and mountains of sacked potatoes as well as peas, corn, string beans, jellies, strawberries, and other preserves which filled their shelves. He had the children count everything carefully. Then they went out to the barn and figured how many tons of hay there were and how many bushels of grain in the granary. They counted the cows, pigs, chickens, turkeys, and geese. Their father said he wanted to see how they stood, but they knew he really wanted them to realize on that feast day how richly God had blessed them and had smiled upon all their hours of work. Finally, when they sat down to the feast their mother had prepared, the blessings were something they felt.

Gordon indicated, however, that the Thanksgiving he remembered most thankfully was the year they seemed to have nothing for which to be grateful. The year started off well: they had leftover hay, lots of seed, four litters of pigs, and their father had a little money set aside so that someday he could afford to buy a hay loader—a wonderful machine most farmers just dreamed of owning. It was also the year that electricity came to their town—although not to them because they couldn’t afford it.

One night when Gordon’s mother was doing her big wash, his father stepped in and took his turn over the washboard and asked his wife to rest and do her knitting. He said, “You spend more time doing the wash than sleeping. Do you think we should break down and get electricity?” Although elated at the prospect, she shed a tear or two as she thought of the hay loader that wouldn’t be bought.

So the electrical line went up their lane that year. Although it was nothing fancy, they acquired a washing machine that worked all day by itself and brilliant lightbulbs that dangled from each ceiling. There were no more lamps to fill with oil, no more wicks to cut, no more sooty chimneys to wash. The lamps went quietly off to the attic.

The coming of electricity to their farm was almost the last good thing that happened to them that year. Just as their crops were starting to come through the ground, the rains started. When the water finally receded, there wasn’t a plant left anywhere. They planted again, but more rains beat the crops into the earth. Their potatoes rotted in the mud. They sold a couple of cows and all the pigs and other livestock they had intended to keep, getting very low prices for them because everybody else had to do the same thing. All they harvested that year was a patch of turnips which had somehow weathered the storms.

Then it was Thanksgiving again. Their mother said, “Maybe we’d better forget it this year. We haven’t even got a goose left.”

On Thanksgiving morning, however, Gordon’s father showed up with a jackrabbit and asked his wife to cook it. Grudgingly she started the job, indicating it would take a long time to cook that tough old thing. When it was finally on the table with some of the turnips that had survived, the children refused to eat. Gordon’s mother cried, and then his father did a strange thing. He went up to the attic, got an oil lamp, took it back to the table, and lighted it. He told the children to turn out the electric lights. When there was only the lamp again, they could hardly believe that it had been that dark before. They wondered how they had ever seen anything without the bright lights made possible by electricity.

The food was blessed, and everyone ate. When dinner was over, they all sat quietly. Wrote Gordon:

“In the humble dimness of the old lamp we were beginning to see clearly again. … “It [was] a lovely meal. The jack rabbit tasted like turkey and the turnips were the mildest we could recall. … “… [Our] home … , for all its want, was so rich [to] us.” Copyright 2009 Laurie LC Lewis, (To obtain permission to copy or reprint any portion of this post, please contact the author at lclewis2007@gmail.com)

THAT FIRST THANKSGIVING

These tender messages from those who attended the first Thanksgiving are provided by PILGRIM HALL MUSEUM. Other lovely letters, and information is available at their web site as well.

This evocative painting, titled "The First Thanksgiving at Plymouth," was painted by Jennie A. Brownscombe (1850-1936), in Honesdale, PA, or New York, in 1914.

***************************

There are 2 (and only 2) primary sources for the events of autumn 1621 in Plymouth : Edward Winslow writing in Mourt's Relation and William Bradford writing in Of Plymouth Plantation.

Edward Winslow, Mourt's Relation :

"Our harvest being gotten in, our governour sent foure men on fowling, that so we might after a speciall manner rejoyce together, after we had gathered the fruits of our labours ; they foure in one day killed as much fowle, as with a little helpe beside, served the Company almost a weeke, at which time amongst other Recreations, we exercised our Armes, many of the Indians coming amongst us, and amongst the rest their greatest king Massasoyt, with some ninetie men, whom for three dayes we entertained and feasted, and they went out and killed five Deere, which they brought to the Plantation and bestowed on our Governour, and upon the Captaine and others. And although it be not always so plentifull, as it was at this time with us, yet by the goodness of God, we are so farre from want, that we often wish you partakers of our plentie.

"In modern spelling"our harvest being gotten in, our governor sent four men on fowling, that so we might after a special manner rejoice together, after we had gathered the fruits of our labors; they four in one day killed as much fowl, as with a little help beside, served the Company almost a week, at which time amongst other Recreations, we exercised our Arms, many of the Indians coming amongst us, and amongst the rest their greatest king Massasoit, with some ninety men, whom for three days we entertained and feasted, and they went out and killed five Deer, which they brought to the Plantation and bestowed on our Governor, and upon the Captain and others. And although it be not always so plentiful, as it was at this time with us, yet by the goodness of God, we are so far from want, that we often wish you partakers of our plenty."

William Bradford
"They begane now to gather in ye small harvest they had, and to fitte up their houses and dwellings against winter, being all well recovered in health & strenght, and had all things in good plenty; fFor as some were thus imployed in affairs abroad, others were excersised in fishing, aboute codd, & bass, & other fish, of which yey tooke good store, of which every family had their portion. All ye somer ther was no want. And now begane to come in store of foule, as winter approached, of which this place did abound when they came first (but afterward decreased by degrees). And besids water foule, ther was great store of wild Turkies, of which they tooke many, besids venison, &c. Besids, they had about a peck a meale a weeke to a person, or now since harvest, Indean corn to yt proportion. Which made many afterwards write so largly of their plenty hear to their freinds in England, which were not fained, but true reports."

In modern spelling:

"They began now to gather in the small harvest they had, and to fit up their houses and dwellings against winter, being all well recovered in health and strength and had all things in good plenty. For as some were thus employed in affairs abroad, others were exercised in fishing, about cod and bass and other fish, of which they took good store, of which every family had their portion. All the summer there was no want; and now began to come in store of fowl, as winter approached, of which this place did abound when they came first (but afterward decreased by degrees). And besides waterfowl there was great store of wild turkeys, of which they took many, besides venison, etc. Besides, they had about a peck of meal a week to a person, or now since harvest, Indian corn to that proportion. Which made many afterwards write so largely of their plenty here to their friends in England, which were not feigned but true reports."

NOTE : The Mayflower arrived in Plymouth in December of 1620. No further ships arrived in Plymouth until immediately after that "First Thanksgiving" - the Fortune arrived in November of 1621.

One of the passengers on the Fortune, William Hilton, wrote a letter home that November. Although he was not present at that "First Thanksgiving," he does mention turkeys.


THE 53 PILGRIMSAT THE FIRST THANKSGIVING :
4 MARRIED WOMEN : Eleanor Billington, Mary Brewster, Elizabeth Hopkins, Susanna White Winslow.5 ADOLESCENT GIRLS : Mary Chilton (14), Constance Hopkins (13 or 14), Priscilla Mullins (19), Elizabeth Tilley (14 or15) and Dorothy, the Carver's unnamed maidservant, perhaps 18 or 19.9 ADOLESCENT BOYS : Francis & John Billington, John Cooke, John Crackston, Samuel Fuller (2d), Giles Hopkins, William Latham, Joseph Rogers, Henry Samson.13 YOUNG CHILDREN : Bartholomew, Mary & Remember Allerton, Love & Wrestling Brewster, Humility Cooper, Samuel Eaton, Damaris & Oceanus Hopkins, Desire Minter, Richard More, Resolved & Peregrine White.22 MEN : John Alden, Isaac Allerton, John Billington, William Bradford, William Brewster, Peter Brown, Francis Cooke, Edward Doty, Francis Eaton, [first name unknown] Ely, Samuel Fuller, Richard Gardiner, John Goodman, Stephen Hopkins, John Howland, Edward Lester, George Soule, Myles Standish, William Trevor, Richard Warren, Edward Winslow, Gilbert Winslow.
FAMILY GROUPS :
ALDEN : John
ALLERTON : Isaac with children Bartholomew, Mary, Remember; the Allerton servant William Latham
BILLINGTON : John & Eleanor with sons Francis, John Jr.
BRADFORD : William
BREWSTER : William & Mary with sons Love, Wrestling; their ward Richard More
BROWNE / BROWN : Peter
CARVER: The Carver ward Desire Minter; the Carver servant John Howland; the Carver maidservant Dorothy.
CHILTON : Mary
COOKE : Francis with son John
CRACKSTON : John
EATON : Francis with son Samuel
ELY: Unknown adult man
FULLER : Samuel with nephew Samuel 2d
GARDINER : Richard
GOODMAN : John
HOPKINS : Stephen & Elizabeth with Giles, Constance, Damaris, Oceanus; their servants Edward Doty and Edward Leister.
MULLINS : Priscilla
ROGERS : Joseph
STANDISH : Myles
TILLEY : Elizabeth
TILLEY: Tilley wards Humility Cooper and Henry Samson
TREVOR / TREVORE : William
WARREN : Richard
WINSLOW : Edward & Susanna with her sons Resolved White & Peregrine White; Winslow servant George Soule
WINSLOW : Gilbert
Note : In Of Plymouth Plantation, William Bradford lists the Mayflower passengers and also tells us who died during the first winter of 1620/1621 and spring of 1621. No other ships arrived in Plymouth until after the "First Thanksgiving" celebration. The Pilgrims at the "First Thanksgiving" are all the Mayflower survivors.Copyright 2009 Laurie LC Lewis, (To obtain permission to copy or reprint any portion of this post, please contact the author at lclewis2007@gmail.com)