The Harvest of Thanks

Thanksgiving has always been my favorite holiday. There is no pressure for the perfect gift, it isn't about one single person, it is just a celebration of thanks.

The food, friends, family all combine to make Thanksgiving a special time.

As I have grown older, my Thanksgiving celebrations have changed. Since, moving to Florida I have always had to work the day after Thanksgiving, so travelling to Georgia has been out of the question. Now, I celebrate this special holiday with my Florida family, a collection of friends who have blessed my life in unimagined ways.

It is sad not to be with my family in Georgia on this holiday, but I know that they hold a special place in their hearts for me as they sit to enjoy the harvest of love they feast on at Thanksgiving.

As much as I loved those Thanksgiving celebrations in God's Country before moving to Florida, and as much as I love the ones I take part in here, my favorite Thanksgiving memories are from my early childhood, in a place called Rochelle, Ga.

Rochelle, is a tiny town in south-western Georgia, approximately 60 miles from Macon. Not much happens in Rochelle, it is an agriculture community that thrives on pecan fields. Rochelle is where we lived the first year of my life.

We moved away from Rochelle, before my first birthday, but it has always held a special place in our hearts.

During our time in Rochelle, our family became part of a close-knit circle of friends the Hudsons, the Horns, the Mashburns, Whitworths, Conners, Reeds and others, an extended family much like the one I have created in Florida.

We had a special bond with the Hudsons, Newt, Gracie, Randy, Dixie and Suzanne.

For years after moving to God's Country, we would travel to Rochelle for Thanksgiving. Mama and daddy would pack up the car after school let out on Wednesday and we would travel into the night to our friend's in south-Georgia. A standing invitation was held for us at Newt and Gracie's house and we would revel in being there.

Newt was the County Extension Director and later became a State Legislator. Randy, their son, is the splitting image of his father in personality and actions.

Gracie was a combination of Paula Deen and Rose Kennedy. The loud, hilarious, protective matriarch of the family. Dixie is as much like Gracie as anyone could imagine.

Suzanne, the perfect combination of her father's quite dignity and her mother's rambunctious zest for life.

To me, Gracie was the funniest, kindest, most loving person I have ever known. She had an infectious laugh that would echo through the house, a love that was as poignant one on one as in a crowd, and a simple elegance that would capture every eye when she walked into a room.

Arriving in Rochelle for Thanksgiving meant one thing.... joy! Unbridled joy!

We would drive up to the Hudson house late into the evening and be engulfed in hugs, kisses and laughter that would last long past the time we returned to God's Country.

Without delay preparations would begin for the Harvest of Thanks that would be presented the next day. A table filled with turkey, ham, beef, fish, vegetables, salads, cakes and pies of every combination and most of all love.

My favorite memories of Gracie have nothing to do with the meal preparation, but special times sharing the bench of her organ, laughing and singing to her concert that in my mind was performed just for me.

Located in the den of the house was Gracie's organ, no music in sight, but the most important piece of furniture in their house in my young mind.

To this day, I recall asking repeatedly "Gracie, will you play the organ for me?" After some simple coaxing, she would always pull off her apron, take me by the hand, place me on the bench along side her and begin to play. Gracie played by ear, and in my mind she performed like the best of the best at Carnegie Hall.

I would sit along side Gracie and the rest of the family would join us in the den. She would play, she would sing, she would laugh and we would all join in. Those moments spent with Gracie are some of the most treasured of my life, I will never forget that time for as long as I live.

Mama and Gracie would continue preparations for the feast long into the night. Potatoes peeled, oranges crushed, cakes baked and a continuous round of basting the turkey throughout the night, this was a meal prepared with love for all those who would sit together the following day.

After a long night, preparations would again begin early in the morning. After a full breakfast, daddy, Newt, Tom, Sam and Randy would make their way to the Hudson's farm, a sprawling pecan orchard with grazing cows and catfish ponds. I stayed behind, tugging on Gracie's apron strings just enjoying the time with this lady I loved so much.

By lunchtime, the house was filled with all the other families who had been a part of our life in Rochelle. Providing their own dishes, there was easily enough food for the entire state and more laughter in one confined place than should be allowed.

We would gather together as time for the feast approached and Newt would lead us in prayer. All holding hands, families intermingled.... an extended family of love.

A Harvest of Thanks!

I treasure those times in Rochelle, the memories of those days still impact me some 30 years later.

As I grew older we didn't travel to Rochelle for Thanksgiving anymore. Ma-ma and Gramps were getting older and it was important for us to stay closer to God's Country, but that extended family still holds a special place in my heart.

We lost Gracie a few years back, I had not seen her in many years when she died and I regret that, but I know she loved me and I know she knew I loved her. She will always hold a special place in my heart and I look forward to sitting at her side again some day as she serenades the angels in heaven on her organ.

Yes, Thanksgiving has always been my favorite holiday, a time to tell those important to you that they are loved.... a time to give thanks!