A Magical Thanksgiving

A Magical Thanksgiving is an excerpt from my memoir. A short and enlightening read.
On Thanksgiving the following year, Dad was very ill with pneumonia. If there was one characteristic of Dad’s that delighted me the most, it was his sense of humor no matter how dire the situation. Despite being broke and sick as a dog, he was determined to celebrate the holiday. When we sat down at the dining room table, we were met not with baskets of warm rolls and boats full of piping hot gravy and a carved turkey, but with empty plates upon which my father had placed handwritten notes labeled “turkey,” “cranberry sauce,” and “mashed potatoes.” Our actual meal was to be very inexpensive salami, sardines, and bread, but Dad wanted us to have the sense that we could enjoy the traditional Thanksgiving meal if we just put a little bit of imagination into it.

But what was in store for us that Thanksgiving turned out to be much more than Dad’s food labels. Just as we sat down, there was a knock on the door. When I ran to open it, there stood two uniformed Salvation Army men holding bags of kosher Thanksgiving food for us. Mother cried seeing them and I couldn’t stop hugging my sister. I still don’t know if Dad knew they were showing up that day, but I suspect he didn’t because even he looked surprised once he understood what was going on. I never forgot that moment in time, and ever since then, the importance of charity has remained inside of me.

As soon as I had the means, I started donating to others who were less fortunate to help them celebrate Thanksgiving just as our family had. Not only that, but that day also taught me the power of imagination and belief. My father believed in giving us a better Thanksgiving, even if it meant putting out little labels, and I’ve often wondered if our believing in those labeled dishes is what made the reality and miraculous gift come through that day.