a heartwarming Thanksgiving story (and a house full of warm hearts)

Whatever you do, whether in speech or action, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus and give thanks to God the Father through him. – Colossians 3:17

Today, on a cold and rainy Saturday along with a couple of bouncing-off-the-walls grandkids, there’s not much I can get done in the way of writing. But there are a couple of Thanksgiving Day stories I’d love to share, and of course I have some photos.

Rebekah organized an amazing feast. I took care of a few cooking assignments, but she was the reason it was possible to bring together something this spectacular in the way that we did (I plan to talk about all the cooking our grandchildren did under her direction in another post).

We had a glad and exuberant houseful of family, full with love and generosity, and the food was beyond amazing. So we sat around the table, shared stories, enjoyed the bounty, and deepened the connections with the people we love.

When the time came to talk about what we are grateful for, everyone shared from the heart. But my dad stole the show by pulling out an old birthday card he had come across in his files. It was one I had given him sometime around 1964, featuring my atrocious spelling, a not-so-subtle jab at my brother and classic eight-year-old art.