I think back to those early days when Pilgrims met the land,
and wonder at their first thoughts on that wet and vacant sand.
Was there hope of future in a place that would be free,
of crossing vast prairies for generations—down to me,
or did they just seek freedom from rulers on a throne
who held faith and education over lives not of their own?

To cross the mighty ocean with everything you claim—
family, parcels, keepsakes, your pride and your good name.
Thru’ sickness, fear and childbirth they rode waves for long week,
searching the horizon for shores they wished to seek.
They questioned not their mission but strived to meet the task,
and questioned not their Maker of what they had been ask.

At Plymouth Rock they landed—wide-eyed and weary more,
thanking God the Father for reaching this great shore.
And soon they started building the village where they’d stay
in huts, and cabins, barns and such to shelter them each day.
By night they kept a sentry to watch the valley fort
with vigilance and love of folk to ward off foe of sort.

Red men came to peer at them thru’ grass that did surround
this colony of strangers that set foot upon their ground.
They did not want to harm them, or war with them at all,
just watch from a safe distance these white men straight and tall.
They saw them often flounder when storms would cause them fail
as crops would go asunder from rain and giant hail.

The Indians were curious but friendly just the same—
into their midst they wandered to touch their golden mane.
Language was a barrier, but love was in their heart,
to share and be united in this land they’d not depart.
Trading with the white man—sharing what they knew,
teaching whites to plant and tend the crops they often grew.

They harvested an autumn feast—toil, hard work to bear, 
and sent prayers of thanks to a God they soon would share.
Thanksgiving—our tradition, was started on that day
reminding us to gather in joyfulness and play
with friend or foe to thank God for blessings He has given,
and ask him each and every day to prepare a place in Heaven.

"A Thanksgiving to Remember" by Tamara Hillman.
©Nov/2007

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