Last week I found myself thinking about Thanksgiving. Not the one coming up, but memories of the family gatherings when I was young. The holiday started with the dreaded six-hour drive from New England to where my Mennonite grandparents lived in Souderton. Their house was fairly spartan, with nothing for kids to do. But finally, our cousins would arrive and then the fun started. We’d make up games, most of which involved chasing each other around the house. We were warned away from the kitchen while my grandmother, mom, and aunts worked to get all the food ready.
I can’t say that the feast was the thing for me. Oyster stuffing—ick. Reconstituted dried corn—also ick. I didn’t even like pumpkin pie back then. (Having my grandmother’s shoo-fly pie for breakfast was a different story!)
Looking back, I think what I loved was the spirit of the holiday. There was palpable excitement in the air—in being together with family we saw only once a year and in the idea of the feast. “Farm to Table” wasn’t a concept yet, but almost everything was local. The turkey came from a nearby farm, the corn and other vegetables from what my grandmother had preserved from my grandfather’s large kitchen garden.
Sadly, the Thanksgiving tradition disappeared along with our grandparents and parents. But my family celebrates Christmas together, here in Kimberton, an event that looks a lot like Thanksgiving, just a month late, and with presents. No matter what menu alternative I might suggest, the associations with family and those long-ago Thanksgivings are so strong my siblings always want turkey with all the trimmings—that oyster stuffing—and pumpkin pie. (And shoo-fly pie for breakfast. For us, it’s not a family celebration without it.) The foods I didn’t like when I was young are now favorites, plus I’ve added a few now that I love vegetables: roasted butternut squash and Brussels sprouts.
For me, the ritual that’s evolved makes it even more special. I love getting up early on Christmas Day to prepare the stuffing and get the turkey into the oven so it’s ready in time. I love being the host and having that lovely sense of anticipation, waiting for the others to arrive. Even the traffic-filled trips to the airport feel precious. Overall, it feels like an honor to be the keeper of our family traditions, and I love recreating the feeling of “home.
”I’m thinking today of how Thanksgiving links us to our family trees. Regardless of where our forebears came from and when, the observance points to the magic that happens when we share food with loved ones. I’m thinking of the stories I’ve read of generations who immigrated here with seeds of their favorite vegetables and flowers sewn into—hidden in—the hems of their clothing. So that when they missed the land and family they’d left behind, they could bring what they’d lost close to them.
Of course, not everyone gets to see family at Thanksgiving. Family members may live too far away or be unable to make a long trip for financial or health reasons. Some may not have family left to gather with. I hope that however you connect with family and/or friends, and whatever your traditions are, that you have a lovely Thanksgiving Day.
Note: My book, “Listening to Nature’s Voice,” is now on the shelf at Reads & Company, 234 Main Street, Phoenixville. Full of observations of and gratitude for the natural world, it would make a great gift to bring to Thanksgiving dinner. Also, my book aside, Reads & Company is one of the best and friendliest independent bookstores I know of, perfect for holiday shopping. Afterwards, you can enjoy a delicious bite in one of the many great eateries just a few steps away.
Pam Baxter is an avid organic vegetable gardener who lives in Kimberton. Direct e-mail to pamelacbaxter@gmail.com, or send mail to P.O. Box 80, Kimberton, PA 19442. Pam’s new book, Listening to Nature’s Voice, is now available on Amazon. For more information or to sign up for her newsletter, visit her website: pamelabaxterbooks.com
Source: Berkshire mont