How My Uncles Said Thanksgiving Grace

by Bo Sirant, 2012 (dedicated to POWs and those MIA) I remember Thanksgiving when I was a kid Three of dads buddies came over They were bachelors and were always invited because they had no close family And they were my uncles Uncle Basil, Uncle Bill and Uncle Bob The B-boys as my mother called them After they had a few beers hors doeuvres and snacks and pitched some horseshoes and played with the beagles and had a few smokes out back and washed up and after the steaming and savory hustle and bustle in the kitchen and after my brothers, mom, and I set the table and brought trays of food out we all sat down to the traditional dinner Mom had gone all out as usual preparing roasted turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes with gravy cabbage rolls, pyrogies stuffed pike sweet potatoes, cranberry sauce, sweet corn, squashes peas and carrots, baked apples and, of course, pumpkin and pecan pies On cue, we all stood up and crossed ourselves and then Dad said grace

Bless us, O Lord, and these, Thy gifts, which we are about to receive from Thy bounty. Through Christ, our Lord. Amen. Could I say a prayer? asked Uncle Basil Of course, said Dad. Lord, thanks for our good looks for our physiques and our strengths and for our health Thanks for our intact limbs and senses our peace of mind and intelligences Thanks for your grace for our happinesses for our simple lives for our tears of joy and laughter rather than the tears of sorrow and grief that somewhere others are shedding today And thanks also for keeping us safe and secure and sparing us from the extreme sufferings others have had to endure from being torn to bloody shreds or being imprisoned in some far off cursed and forsaken place or worse Then Uncle Bill added: Thanks for covering the bountiful land of our birth with fields of golden barley, oats and wheat rather than scorched earth death, destruction, desolation, and dearth Thanks for the fertile soils, wanted sun and needed rain for fat cattle that graze on lush grasses

rather than fields covered by bloated bodies of the rotting slain Thanks for the distant lightning and thunder of summer storms rather than the closing flash, blast and thunder of mortars, rockets and big guns bursting all asunder Thanks for the quiet pitter-patter of autumn rain rather than the shrieks of wounded, and those writhing in mortal pain Then Uncle Bob began: Divine Creator, thanks for our loved ones And for this unbroken circle of fellowship Thanks for this humble home and sparing it from the hurricanes of fire that we have seen leave others bereft and without shelter Thanks for our happy journeys which are so contrasted to the sad wanderings and pilgrimages of unfortunate and friendless refugees hungry and thirsty dressed in rags and barefoot suffering in icy winds, damp and darkness snow and sleet that we have witnessed all too much Thanks for your generosity and may we follow your example and be generous to all in need Thanks for filling our hearts with love and compassion Thanks for letting us lean on your everlasting arms

Thanks for our true friends our high hopes the joys in our lives the bounce in our light steps the good clothes on our backs and sturdy boots on our feet plenty of food and drink on the table and in the larder medicines in our cabinets Lord, thanks for the warmth of the stove and fireplace the glow of these candles and the glow of our cheeks Amen to that! my mother said We crossed ourselves and began to eat.