A Truly Canadian Thanksgiving

by Mike Thomas

Ah, Thanksgiving. What a marvelous holiday. There are few things greater to celebrate than thanksgiving. It, by its nature, shows a humility within us at the realization that the world doesn't owe us anything. We thank God for his provisions, our health, and the love He has shown us. I thought that it would be an interesting venture to let the readers from nations other than Canada have an insight into what it is like to celebrate thanksgiving in our country. The following is a short summary of how the Thanksgiving day celebrations unfolded for my family last year. Enjoy, and be thankful.

First thing in the morning, my family gathers around the turkey tree, and we open our presents. This year I got the stuffing, and the cranberry sauce! I was so excited. Then we get ready to go to the Canadian turkey fest morning annual parade, we have to get into our costumes. You know turkeys, pilgrims (we kinda stole that from you Americans), and football players. At the parade, people play the gourds, and harps and stuff. It doesn't sound good at all, but it's tradition.

Then it's time for the big meal around 2:30 in the afternoon. We get the turkey from the pen out back, and bring it into the family room. We had both sides of our family here at my house this weekend for the first time. Usually we're at my grandparents, but they built a new house with my aunt and uncle so they didn't want the blood all over the place. Next everybody pets the turkey and says. . . well this is the embarrassing part, I don't think you do this. We say "Goody, goody turkey, turkey gobble gobble do. Goody, goody, turkey, turkey I'm a gonna eat you." After that we get out the bowsaw, and saw off the flailing turkey's head. Don't worry, we put newspapers down. Seeing the turkey actually die as it fights for its life lets us appreciate just what we have been given for our nourishment and enjoyment. Then it's the fun part — the pluckin'! It's like a mad dash as everyone tries to get as many turkey feathers as they can before they're all gone, because at the end the person with the most gets to have his/her choice of the heart, tongue, or gizzard. Mmm. . . I just love it. Uncle Barry is the best, he's won it for as long as I can remember. Nanny says that he must bring in his own fake feathers in his jacket each time and that's how he wins. It's very funny.

From then until dinner time, we busy ourselves with cooking, talking, cleaning the turkey blood off the walls and ourselves, and playing sports. Sometimes poppy tells us the story of his first thanksgiving, that's cool too. Then as everyone does, we enjoy a nice home cooked meal with family it's the Canadian way. We share the things we are thankful for, and dig in. I will admit though, it's sometimes hard to eat the turkey after bonding with it, and having to rip a leg or wing off of an animal which had looked deep into your eyes just a few hours before. It bothered me as a kid, but I'm pretty well over it now.

That is how we do Thanksgiving in Canada.