Ripple Connection Question of The Week Contest
the corner, what is your favorite
Thanksgiving memory?
Thanksgiving Day for me meant football! Rising early, grabbing my gear and playing tackle football for hours on end in the front yard with my best friend. The crisp fall day, the crunching of the leaves and the Dallas Cowboys we pretended to be charging our way to another Turkey Day come from behind victory.
Oh I can still feel the excitement as we pretended to be Roger Staubach, Tony Dorsett and Drew Pearson. The smell of someone burning their fireplace and just the hint of the magnificent bounty of food that would be awaiting us later in the day! I can still remember it like it was yesterday and the smells, if I close my eyes still seem as real today as they were back then.
As we grew older and my some of my friends moved away or lost interest, I would still cherish Thanksgiving Day. Though the football games became fewer and fewer as we all grew older, the memory or those hallowed days I suspect still warm us all. For me, it is a tradition and one that I am glad I had as a youngster.
So...What is your favorite Thanksgiving Memory?
Please pass this on to all of your friends, family and co-workers!
I will select one lucky Winner and post their Thanksgiving memory in next week’s BLOG! The winner will receive an early
Look forward to reading your Thanksgiving Memory!!!
Ripple On My Friends!
Steve Harper
P.S. The holidays are right around the corner so be sure to remember The Ripple Effect (book) makes an excellent gift! Check it out at www.ripplecentral.com
2 comments:
This is a great idea! I look forward to sharing my story with you. I am going to email it as this look likes it might be too small a box to do my memory justice.
In 1964 while living in Fort William (now Thunderbay), Ontario, Canada my father took us to the home of a good friend, a large, jovial Frenchman. His warmth was infectious as he busseled about his kitchen. I was 8 years old and I still recall how incredibly special that day felt in total.
There were pots steaming on the oven, his children running about as if at some grand party, and I sat on a stool near a large butcher block gazing at food and greens everywhere. He would wonder over with this HUGE grin from time to time and say, "try this", and something magical would be in a ladle or spoon to sample -- it would always be juicy and tasty. And most of all everything tasted like it had a bit of honey in it.
The table that evening seemed to be a giant mound of everything I could ever want to eat. Candle light, large brown bowls and dishes brimming over and a feast only an arms reach away from everyone at the table.
Most of all I remember the Frenchman. I don't know if I've ever felt such happiness glowing from another person. He was everywhere and everything. A laugh, a question, another laugh as if everyone near him could not be more amusing.
My final thought... if it had been Christmas I would have sworn that he was Santa Claus. Instead, he is a wonderful memory of how magical a gathering of friends at Thanksgiving can be for an eight year old.
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