W h y Not T r y Thanksgiving? By Frances N. Phair
U NTIL Thanksgiving!” Dick and Carol gasped, almost in one breath. Their mother’s eyes looked large and sad in her thin, white face, but her smile came like sudden sunshine. “Why not try thanksgiving till Thanks giving?” she asked, pointing to a motto on the wall where they read the first four words of her question. Ten days ago she went away with Daddy to the big city to get well, but each night the same big lump came into Carol’s throat when dear old Aunt Mary kissed her good night and said in her sweet Quaker-lady way, “ I’ll give thee a kiss on the other cheek for thy dear mother.” Carol loved that, but she melted into tears and choking sobs long after she was cozily tucked into the big four poster. Dick felt he was too big for kisses and no one knew what he thought, but he kept on treating Carol very unkindly as he had been doing for months. Mother had begged him to take special, loving care of his little sister while she was away, but he seemed to have no love for her. It was this that had made mother’s going hardest for both Carol and her self. Dick’s ways brought a sharp pain to her heart which slowed up her re covery. Carol was thinking this Sunday morn ing, as she sat quietly beside Aunt Mary in the big pew at “ First Day Meeting” in the Quaker service that she could never wait till Thanksgiving to see Mother and Daddy. Dick was sitting with Uncle John on the men’s side of the meeting house, swinging his feet restlessly. Uncle John would not like that. She wished he would send Dick upstairs without dinner when they got home. Just then Margaret Kimber stood up to speak. That was the way they did in Quaker meeting. Though her bonnet hid her pretty face, Carol loved the kind voice and listened earnestly. “ Thee knows, friends,” Margaret said quietly, “ I forget to obey God’s com mands to me; then I wonder why I do not seem to see His promises- come true. I find when I obey Ephesians 5:20, and thank Him for everything, yes every thing He lets come to me, whether it seems good or bad, then Romans 8:28 comes true. Then everything in my life works together for my good, and my heart is full of peace and happiness.” As she sat down again, she turned her head so Carol saw her smiling face shining with joy, and another dear voice echoed in Carol’s heart: “ Why not try thanks giving till Thanksgiving?” Page Twenty
“ I’ll do it!” whispered the little girl to herself—and God. “ Well, catch your old cat if you can, I won’t be bothered, cried Dick rudely, the next morning, as they tried to get hold of Calico to take her back to their cousins Sue and Billy. The cat was only half-tamed and was not happy with them. She ran upstairs and hid away under the bed when they tried to put her in the basket to return her. “ If you only knew what was good for you,” pleaded Carol, after Billy had stomped out. Worn out, Carol sat down on the floor and burst into tears. Every thing seemed to be wrong: she did not want to take that long walk alone with Billy to her cousins’ home, and a special fear tugged at her heart because she had heard that morning that a vicious dog was at large in the village. Suddenly Carol stopped crying. There on the wall opposite was the motto: “Why not try Thanksgiving?” She did and right then there was a soft rub against her knee. “ Good old Calico,” she coaxed, and quickly Pussy was in the covered basket where she meowed away unhappily. It was hot walking in the sun. When it was her turn to carry the basket, Dick did not walk beside her, but ran ahead or lagged behind, taking short trips into the fields. “ He would run away and leave me,” she thought mournfully, “ if a mad dog came.” She did not have long to worry about that for bounding down the long lane of the Kimber’s home, as they went by, came a great hound, with tongue hang ing and eyes rolling. His loud baying sounded like the trumpet of doom to the two frightened children. Dick was somewhere behind her.
“ Dick, oh Dick, where are you?” sobbed the terrified Carol. There he was, running, just as she thought. “ Throw down your basket! Climb the wall!” he yelled as he raced past her. As she obeyed, the lid flew open, and out leapt Calico, a spitting ball of fury. She went straight for the big dog. A moment of flying fur, cat yowls and dog howls, and the big hound was running away for dear life. Carol who had tumbled over the low wall into a brier patch was stumbling painfully to her feet. A hearty laugh rang out as a big man picked her up very carefully, exclaiming, “My old hound dog was well paid for breaking his chain and scaring thee, child.” Then as he felt the trembling of the white faced little girl in his arms, he asked kindly, “ Is thee really hurt, my dear?” “ Isn’t he . . . isn’t he mad?” chorused Carol and a red-faced Dick came up panting. Kindly John Kimber laughed loudly again, “ No, no,” he said, “ that old hound dog wouldn’t hurt a flea; he was just glad to get loose. He loves children. But why,” he asked, turning to Dick who was staring at him open-mouthed, “ did thee run right into his path if thee thought he was mad?” Dick’s face really was red then, and he stammered, “ I didn’t want him to get Carol. I thought he would follow me, and . . .” “ Dick, oh Dick,” and Carol sobbed this time from pure happiness. Dick did love her after all. But it was only after the wonderful Thanksgiving dinner was over and they were alone with a mother whose pink cheeks and smiling eyes revealed she was well again, that the whole story came out about giving thanks for all things. Then Dick blurted out, “ I don’t know what made me feel mean toward Carol; everybody likes her best, but I feel dif ferent inside since that ole hound came after us. I knew then I loved her. I was so mad at him I could’ve killed him with my bare hands, as David killed the lion.” “ He’s the best brother in the world,” Carol said proudly, “ and I found a verse that just fits him: ‘Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.’ ” In the twilight, they could hear the tears in mother’s voice as she gathered both children close to her. “ My darlings,” she said, “ God and you have given me the happiest Thanksgiving in my life. May He help us all to give thanks al ways for all things.” T H E K I N G ' S B U S I N E S S
Made with FlippingBook - Online catalogs