by Clifford Kurt

Created on: July 08, 2009

Thoughts of Thanksgiving bring back wonderful memories of family gatherings, wonderful food, and a great prank I pulled on my sister.

Last November, Peggy wanted to win a radio contest prize of Thanksgiving dinner for 12 people. The radio station asked listeners to send in stories of their best holiday memories.

I'm the writer in the family, so Peg asked me to compose an essay for her to submit. She wanted sweet recollections of holidays past. But as a goof, I wrote up a completely fictitious account of a holiday blessing:

THE THANKSGIVING MIRACLE

It was 1968, and my six brothers and sisters and I were preparing for another Thanksgiving without our father. You see, Poppa was a physician and he was serving in Vietnam. Holidays without Poppa were always difficult because he was a very warm, giving, humorous man. His overflowing love for us made every holiday even more special. But he'd been in Vietnam for almost two years, and we missed him so.

And Thanksgiving was the toughest. It was Mom's favorite holiday, and although she tried to put on a good game face' for the sake of her seven tender children, this year she could only do so much.

On the Wednesday night before Thanksgiving, she went about setting the table for the next day's meal. I don't know if it was because this Thanksgiving would also be her birthday her 50th or if it was her terrible longing for Poppa, or the fact that she hadn't heard from him in over two months, or a combination of all three, but I saw a tear a single, lonely, but very telling tear escape her eye and trickle down her cheek.

She wiped the moisture away and began singing a Christmas song. I don't remember which song she sang, but I do remember wanting to cry and sing that song all at the same time.

The next day, it was a Thanksgiving miracle! The eight of us, Mom and her seven children, all sat down to dinner and said grace. Teddy, my oldest brother, asked God to bless Mom on her 50th birthday, and to protect Poppa while he helped the dying and wounded men overseas. And he asked God to please bring Poppa home safe, and soon, so Mom could stop crying.

At the very moment Teddy said Amen, there was a rattle at the front door. It blew open and a gust of cold air rushed in, followed by, of all things, our Poppa! He was bundled up and limping, but we barely noticed.

We ran to him, shocked and crying. We didn't know he was coming home. It was an answered prayer!

After a few minutes, we discovered why Poppa was limping. He'd lost his leg below the knee and had badly wounded his hand. He would no longer be able to perform surgery. But it didn't matter. He was home and we were ever so thankful!

Poppa went on to teach in medical school. Mom didn't ever cry again. She told us that after what Poppa had gone through, she had no business crying for her own troubles. And she was right.

Poppa and Mom are now at peace together in the cemetery. And we have a new Thanksgiving tradition. Each year, someone in our family is designated Crippled Poppa and, just when grace is ended, he or she hobbles in, pretending to be missing a leg, and we all gather 'round and hug him or her.

We just love Thanksgiving!

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