Thanksgiving has always been my favorite holiday. It is a time to reflect, count our blessings, and be grateful. With anticipation, we look forward to the festive season ahead.
Tradition is a gift handed down through the generations. My favorite is the one my daughter started years ago: My husband and I gather at her house on the eve of family celebrations and spend hours preparing. We all don shirts inscribed “Papa’s Turkey Team,” and each of us has special tasks to complete. I am greeted at the door by my grandson, whose small hand takes my own and leads me to the table. There await the construction paper, scissors, and crayons scattered across its surface. I trace my hand upon a page and, in each finger, must write something for which I am thankful. I smile at my little helper; I cannot fit it all. I begin writing in tiny print. On the top of
