Christ Our Food
by Charles Haddon Spurgeon
Without bread, I become thin like a skeleton; and, at last, I die. Without thought, my mind becomes dwarfed, yes, and it deteriorates until I become the idiot, with a soul that just has life, but little more. And without Christ, my newborn spirit must become a vague, shadowy emptiness. It cannot live unless it feeds on that heavenly manna which came down from heaven. Now the Christian can say, "The life that I live is Christ;" because Christ is the food on which he feeds, and the sustenance of his newborn spirit.
The First Thanksgiving
by Chuck Missler
The early settlers who braved the privations of those difficult years were a fabulous lot, indeed. We can hardly imagine the burdens they endured to make a new life for themselves in a new land. Their turning point began one Friday in the middle of March of 1621.
Samoset
An indian, wearing nothing but a leather loincloth, strode up their main street to the common house, and to their startled faces boomed in flawless English, "Welcome."
His name was Samoset, a Sagamore (or chief) of the Algonquins. He had been visiting the area for the previous eight months, having learned his English from various fishing captains who had put in to the Maine shore over the years.
He returned the following Thursday with another Indian who also spoke English, and who was to prove "a special instrument of God for their good, beyond their expectation." His story was to prove no less extraordinary than the saga of Joseph being sold into slavery to Egypt. His name was Tisquantum, also called Squanto.
Squanto
His story began in 1605 when Squanto and four other Indians were taken captive, sent to England, and taught English to provide intelligence background most favorable places to establish British colonies.
After nine years in England, Squanto was finally able to return to America on Captain John Smith's voyage in 1614. But upon his arrival, he was lured and captured by a notorious slave trader, Captain Thomas Hunt.
Squanto and 27 other Indians were then taken to Malaga, Spain, a major slave-trading port. He was bought and rescued by local friars and introduced to the Christian faith. Thus, God was preparing him for the role he would ultimately play at Plymouth.
He was able to attach himself to an Englishman bound for London, and there he joined the family of a wealthy merchant and ultimately embarked for New England in 1619. He stepped ashore six months before the Pilgrims landed in 1620.1
When he arrived he received the most tragic blow of his life. Not a man, woman, or child of his tribe was left alive! During the previous four years, a mysterious plague had broken out among them, killing every last one. 2 So complete was the devastation that the neighboring tribes had shunned the area ever since.
The Pilgrims had settled in a cleared area that belonged to no one. Their nearest neighbors, the Wampanoags, were about 50 miles to the southwest.
Stripped of his identity and his reason for living, Squanto wandered aimlessly until he joined the Wampanoags, having nowhere else to go and having lost all reason for living. But God had other plans.
Gods Provision
Massasoit, the sachem (or chief) of the Wampanoags, entered into a peace treaty of mutual aid with the Plymouth colony that was to last as a model for forty years. When Massasoit and his entourage left, Squanto stayed.
He had found his reason for living. These English were helpless in the ways of the wilderness. Squanto taught them how to catch eels, stalk deer, plant pumpkins, refine maple syrup, discern both edible herbs and those good for medicine, etc.
Perhaps the most important thing he taught them was the Indian way to plant corn. They hoed six-foot squares in toward the center, putting down four or five kernels, and then fertilizing the corn with fish: three fish in each square, pointing to the center, spoke-like. He told them to guard the field against the wolves (who would try to steal the fish), and by summer they had 20 full acres of corn that would save every one of their lives.
Squanto also taught them to exploit the pelts of the beaver, which were in plentiful supply and in great demand throughout Europe. He even guided the trading to insure they got full prices for top-quality Pelts.
The corn was their physical deliverance; the beaver pelts would be their economic deliverance.
The First Thanksgiving
The Pilgrims were a grateful people--grateful to God, to the Wampanoags, and to Squanto. Governor Bradford declared a day of public Thanksgiving, to be held in October.
Massasoit was invited and unexpectedly arrived a day early--with ninety Indians! To feed such a crowd would cut deeply into their stores for the winter, but they had all learned through all their travails that God could be trusted implicitly.
And it turned out that the Indians did not come empty handed: they brought five dressed deer and more than a dozen fat wild turkeys. They helped with the preparations, teaching the Pilgrim women how to make hotcakes and a tasty pudding out of cornmeal and maple syrup. In fact, they also showed them how to make one of their Indian favorites: white, fluffy popcorn!
The Pilgrims, in turn, provided many vegetables from their gardens: carrots, onions, turnips, parsnips, cucumbers, radishes, beets, and cabbages.
Also, using some of their precious flour and using some of the summer fruits which the Indians had dried, the Pilgrims introduced them to blueberry, apple, and cherry pie. Along with sweet wine made from wild grapes, it was, indeed, a joyous occasion for all concerned.
The Pilgrims and Indians happily competed in shooting contests, foot races, and wrestling. Things went so well (and Massasoit showed no inclination to leave) that this first Thanksgiving was extended for three days.
The moment that stood out the most in the Pilgrim's memories was William Brewster's prayer as they began the festival. They had so much for which to thank God: for providing for all their needs; for their friendship with the Indians-so extraordinary when compared to the colonists at Jamestown; and especially for His provision of Squanto, their teacher, guide, and friend that was to see them through those critical early winters.
A National Institution
By the end of the 19th century , Thanksgiving Day had become an institution throughout New England. It was officially proclaimed as a national holiday by President Abraham Lincoln in 1863. Traditionally celebrated on the last Thursday in November, it was changed by an act of Congress in 1941 to the fourth Thursday of that month. 3
Originally observed to acknowledge the provision of God, let us also make this national holiday a time to thank Him for our own provision--our families, our sustenance, and, above all, our redemption in His Son!
Lets also pray that He might restore the religious freedom that those early Pilgrims cherished so dearly--and that the current enforced paganism that has invaded our land be curtailed. This country is now becoming what the Pilgrims had fled from.
Much of this article was excerpted from The Light and the Glory, Peter Marshall and David Manuel, Fleming H. Revell Co., Old Tappan, NJ, 1977. For a thrilling and inspiring account of the incredible measures God provided in the founding of our once-great country, this book is a "must read."
1. The Pilgrims lived that first winter aboard ship and suffered the loss of 47 colonists.
2. This epidemic, from 1615 to 1617, is believed to have killed 95,000 Indians, leaving only about 5,000 scattered along the coast.
3. Canada first adopted Thanksgiving as a national holiday in November, 1879, and it is now celebrated there on the second Monday in October.
Other Information
For additional information and materials contact Koinonia House , P.O. Box D, Coeur d'Alene, ID 83816-0347 or call 203-773-6310 email: update@khouse.org
This article was converted to electronic format by Jim Milligan, e-mail: 72446,1167@compuserve.com, and was originally posted at the following Web site: JoshuaNet - http://www.primenet.com/~jpmill/
The First Thanksgiving In California
The exact date of the first Thanksgiving celebration in California is not a matter of record. Nor do the old-timers remember in what year it took place. It may have been as early as 1848. It is very likely, however, that it was in the year 1849 and the place one of the many mining camps that had just spring into existence. There were many New Englanders here at the time and it is not probable that the descendants of the Pilgrim Fathers would have allowed their most important and time-honored day to slip by unnoticed.
On the year 1850 the records stand out clear and distinct, and that must be considered the first celebration. In addition to this, a number of the old-timers have dim memories of festive doings on the last day of November in that year, because Governor Peter H. Burnett issued a proclamation declaring it a legal holiday. Official business was suspended and the day
was observed by all men from New England and many others who did not object to a good time. A great many of the events of that day have never been recorded and a great many more have been forgotten, but from such accounts as do exist it appears that it was surely a day of festivity.
To many of the men who came to the coast on the tidal wave of the gold fever Thanksgiving day was a new thing. The majority of these men hailed from the Southern and Middle States and from Europe and did not take kindly to the Puritanical celebration. Some of them ridiculed it and a few of the writers of the time objected to it as a piece of hypocrisy. But the pioneers were tolerant men as a rule, and when the New Englanders determined to celebrate they met with no obstacle. It is also recorded that when the others found that Thanksgiving celebration meant considerable
eating and drinking they inclined to the belief that it was not such a bad thing after all, and concluded to take part in it.
There may have been fifty Thanksgiving celebrations on November 30, 1850. Old-timers remember that the "Yankees" in all camps threw down their picks and shovels and had as good a time as the circumstances would permit of. The majority of them didn't have turkey, unless they happened to live in those sections where the wild birds could be killed at that time. Most of them would have been satisfied with a little fresh beef. Deer was a great luxury, and pork or mutton among the things longed for. In most of the camps where Thanksgiving was celebrated jackrabbit was considered pretty good. In those days the boys didn't look down on the gray jumpers with the contempt that people now display toward the animal that is now considered a pest.
Thanksgiving day 1850 was a cold day all over the State. It was clear and dry, but in the mountains a little snow had fallen. This, of course, only made it seem more like home to the boys from the East, and they were correspondingly delighted. They hauled in plenty of wood the day before, so that they had nothing to do but celebrate and watch the jackrabbits cook to a turn. The rabbits were always cooked whole, a certain member of the party being vested with the honor of chef, whose duty it was to see that it was properly basted and turned occasionally.
While scenes of festivity were going on in many of the camps all over the State there were others where the boys did not know that there was such a day as Thanksgiving. George K. Fitch was in the diggings at the time; and declares that the day passed without his knowledge that it was a holiday. The Governor's proclamation did not reach his camp, and if it had the chances are that no attention would have been paid to it, as there were no New Englanders for several miles around. When the news came that some of the boys over the ridge had been celebrating considerable surprise was expressed.
On the evening of November 30, 1850, the first official celebration of Thanksgiving day in California was observed in Sacramento, and it was a most elaborate affair. Governor Burnett had issued his proclamation a few days previously, and all the New England men in the place at once got together and formed plans for celebrating. They called their organization
the Sons of New England, and held a banquet in the dining-room of the Columbia Hotel. The decorations of the hall on this occasion were by far the most elaborate that had ever been attempted in the State. The walls were hung with bunting, and flags and shields containing the names of the States were placed in the form of a frieze.
Everybody was invited to be present at this feast, whether they came from New England or not. The menu was a most superb one, and contained forty different dishes and eight kinds of wine. There was everything that could be obtained in the best restaurants in any part of the world, and nobody who participated had need to long for turkey or pumpkin pie, or anything else for that matter.
As it happened, Hardin Biglow died a few days previous to Thanksgiving day, and Governor Burnett came up from Monterey to attend the funeral. This brought him to Sacramento just in time to be present at the celebration. He was given the place of honor at the table, and expressed his delight at the fact that he was able to attend the first Thanksgiving celebration which had ever been proclaimed by a Governor of California.
On this occasion K. M. Berry acted as president of the evening. Rev. Mr. Benton asked a blessing and the banquet proceeded. J. W. Cartwright acted as toastmaster. The festivities were kept up until midnight, when, the next day being Sunday, the first official Thanksgiving celebration in the history of the State was brought to a close.
It is not known that anybody who attended that celebration is alive to-day. There may be, but as the list of guests is not complete they could not be located. in the largest cities of California, such as San Francisco, San Jose and Monterey, some attempt was made at observing Thanksgiving by the families. Those who could afford it had turkey, but that is about as far as it went. The stores did not close generally, but business was noticeably slack. The few churches held services out of respect to the gubernatorial proclamation, but nothing on a large scale was attempted.
In San Francisco, the French restaurants prepared a Thanksgiving dinner and managed to get a little more custom than usual. The men here were glad to take part in everything that shower signs of producing a good time.
"I well recollect my first Thanksgiving day in Dan Francisco," said Joseph A. Coolidge. "There was nothing very remarkable about it, but of course we had to celebrate by eating turkey. I bought one, a small one, and paid $16
for it. But it was young and alive. I bought it several days before and gave it in charge of a French cook to fatten. He stuffed it alive until it was as plump as a partridge. It made my mouth water to look at it. The day before Thanksgiving he picked it alive and allowed it to run around without any feathers. But when that turkey was served I tell you it was fit for Lucullus. I don't know where it came from, but I was satisfied with it. I think that by the time I paid the cook for preparing that turkey and the extras that were necessary to go with it, together with a few other things requisite for the dinner, it must have cost at least $50. But it was worth it, and I didn't leave much."
The San Francisco Call, Sunday, November 22, 1896, p. 17.
Rev. Victor Sokolov
The Legend of Juicy Jack Patrick
It has long been thought that citrus and other fruits were brought to the New England area through recent shipping and refrigeration efforts. But folklore brings out the tale of a man who, long before the advent of modern refrigeration, supplied the early colonies with fresh fruits and exotic drinks. The man as he was named at birth, Sir Jonathon Marshall O'Patrick, came to be known as Jack Patrick to his friends and more recently to historians as Juicy Jack Patrick. As his name implies Juicy Jack Patrick became famous for his fruits and rare nectars that he distributed around the New World. What many found hard to believe then was the freshness of his produce. Even to this day the secrets of his transportation have caused confusion among modern scholars.
As the story goes Juicy Jack Patrick sailed the uncharted seas of the New World in search of what he called the "Secrets of Life." As Ponce De Leon with his search for the fountain of youth, Juicy Jack Patrick"s odyssey led him toward the tropics. There he would brave tempest seas and savage indian tribes, which never before encountered white men. Passive by nature, Juicy Jack Patrick wasn't one to battle with nature or with man. Because of this trait the gods were kind and generous and granted him safe passage through storm and siege.
With Nothing to offer but his wisdom and kind spirits Juicy Jack Patrick enchanted the Indian Kings and won the hearts of their tribes. Through their personal meditation and the lively ceremonies of their tribes, the native Kings taught Juicy Jack Patrick to celebrate life and existence. Through this he found what he had for years been seeking. The "Secrets of Life" he once wrote, "cannot be taken or bargained for, they must be granted to oneself through his soul, for it is each man's destiny which writes the answers to his questions of life." At this point in his life Juicy Jack Patrick realized the reason for his being wasn't to search for answers but rather, to pass on knowledge and help bring joy and contentment to his land and his friends.
Along with the many tears, his goodbye to his tribe and their chiefs, brought one more thing.... a gift. This "gift " was the many pounds of fruit, seeds, and sacred soil that the Indians had passed on to Juicy Jack Patrick to help spread happiness to the people of his homeland. Along with the gift they also instructed him in great detail how to care for and cultivate his precious bounty. Many say the sky opened up and a river of golden light poured down from the heavens and blessed the man and his ship.
The voyage home was safe and pleasant while he tended his hold in the manner that the great chiefs had instructed, using the herbs and what some called the "spirits" that had been wished to him by the people of the still unknown and mysterious land. Back in the New World Juicy Jack Patrick, undisrupted by the violence of the Revolution taking place, found refuge on a virgin island off the New England coast where he proceeded to cultivate his "fruits of Life." Through the ancient secrets taught to him , he created a tropical paradise that saw sun year round and was free from the chills of winter. From his utopia he shared the fruits and nectars with his people. It was his belief that anyone who tasted these fruits would taste the magic of the tropics and someday, as he was, be granted the "Secrets of Life."
Juicy Jack Patrick sailed to his beloved Indian friends and their land many times to thank them for their gift and to share with them the knowledge of the New World. Juicy Jack Patrick never wed, although he caught the eye of many admiring women and some say he fathered an only child who grew up to become a goddess in the land of the natives.
This is all that is known of Juicy Jack Patrick the man; his secrets, however, can be discovered in every glass of his juice
The "Secrets of Life" can be found at:
Juicy Jack Patrick's-1815 Mass. Ave. "The Porter Exchange Building(Lower Level), Cambridge, Ma.
The Master Of The Harvest
by Mrs. Alfred Gatty
The Master of the Harvest walked by the side of his cornfields in the springtime. A frown was on his face, for there had been no rain for several weeks, and the earth was hard from the parching of the east winds. The young wheat had not been able to spring up.
So as he looked over the long ridges that stretched in rows before him, he was vexed and began to grumble and say:
"The harvest will be backward, and all things will go wrong."
Then he frowned more and more, and uttered complaints against Heaven because there was no rain; against the earth because it was so dry; against the corn because it had not sprung up.
And the Master's discontent was whispered all over the field, and along the ridges where the corn-seed lay. And the poor little seeds murmured: --
"How cruel to complain! Are we not doing our best? Have we let one drop of moisture pass by unused? Are we not striving every day to be ready for the hour of breaking forth? Are we idle? How cruel to complain!"
But of all this the Master of the Harvest heard nothing, so the gloom did not pass from his face. Going to his comfortable home he repeated to his wife the dark words, that the drought would ruin the harvest, for the corn was not yet sprung up.
Then his wife spoke cheering words, and taking her Bible she wrote some texts upon the flyleaf, and after them the date of the day.
And the words she wrote were these: "The eyes of all wait upon Thee; and Thou givest them their meat in due season. Thou openest Thine hand and satisfiest the desire of every living thing. How excellent is Thy loving-kindness, O God! therefore the children of men put their trust under the shadow of Thy wings. Thou hast put gladness in my heart, more than in the time that their corn and their wine increased."
And so a few days passed as before, and the house was gloomy with the discontent of the Master. But at last one evening there was rain all over the land, and when the Master of the Harvest went out the next morning for his early walk by the cornfields, the corn had sprung up at last.
The young shoots burst out at once, and very soon all along the ridges were to be seen rows of tender blades, tinting the whole field with a delicate green. And day by day the Master of the Harvest saw them, and was satisfied, but he spoke of other things and forgot to rejoice.
Then a murmur rose among the corn-blades. "The Master was angry because we did not come up; now that we have come forth why is he not glad? Are we not doing our best? From morning and evening dews, from the glow of the sun, from the juices of the earth, from the freshening breezes, even from clouds and rain, are we not taking food and strength, warmth and life? Why does he not rejoice?"
And when the Master's wife asked him if the wheat was doing well he answered, "Fairly well," and nothing more.
But the wife opened her Book, and wrote again on the flyleaf: "Who hath divided a watercourse for the overflowing of waters, or a way for the lightning of thunder, to cause it to rain on the earth where no man is, on the wilderness wherein there is no man, to satisfy the desolate and waste ground, and to cause the bud of the tender herb to spring forth? For He maketh small the drops of water; they pour down rain according to the vapor thereof, which the clouds do drop and distil upon man abundantly. Also can any understand the spreadings of the clouds, or the noise of his tabernacle?"
Very peaceful were the next few weeks. All nature seemed to rejoice in the fine weather. The corn-blades shot up strong and tall. They burst into flowers and gradually ripened into ears of grain. But alas! the Master of the Harvest had still some fault to find. He looked at the ears and saw that they were small. He grumbled and said: --
"The yield will be less than it ought to be. The harvest will be bad."
And the voice of his discontent was breathed over the cornfield where the plants were growing and growing. They shuddered and murmured: "How thankless to complain! Are we not growing as fast as we can? If we were idle would we bear wheat-ears at all? How thankless to complain!"
Meanwhile a few weeks went by and a drought settled on the land. Rain was needed, so that the corn-ears might fill. And behold, while the wish for rain was yet on the Master's lips, the sky became full of heavy clouds, darkness spread over the land, a wild wind arose, and the roaring of thunder announced a storm. And such a storm! Along the ridges of corn-plants drove the rain- laden wind, and the plants bent down before it and rose again like the waves of the sea. They bowed down and they rose up. Only where the whirlwind was the strongest they fell to the ground and could not rise again.
And when the storm was over, the Master of the Harvest saw here and there patches of over- weighted corn, yet dripping from the thunder- shower, and he grew angry with them, and forgot to think of the long ridges where the corn-plants were still standing tall and strong, and where the corn-ears were swelling and rejoicing.
His face grew darker than ever. He railed against the rain. He railed against the sun because it did not shine. He blamed the wheat because it might perish before the harvest.
"But why does he always complain?" moaned the corn-plants. "Have we not done our best from the first? Has not God's blessing been with us? Are we not growing daily more beautiful in strength and hope? Why does not the Master trust, as we do, in the future richness of the harvest?"
Of all this the Master of the Harvest heard nothing. But his wife wrote on the flyleaf of her Book: "He watereth the hills from his chambers, the earth is satisfied with the fruit of thy works. He causeth the grass to grow for the cattle and herb for the service of man, that he may bring forth food out of the earth, and wine that maketh glad the heart of man, and oil to make his face to shine, and bread which
strengtheneth man's heart."
And day by day the hours of sunshine were more in number. And by degrees the green corn- ears ripened into yellow, and the yellow turned into gold, and the abundant harvest was ready, and the laborers were not wanting.
Then the bursting corn broke out into songs of rejoicing. "At least we have not labored and watched in vain! Surely the earth hath yielded her increase! Blessed be the Lord who daily loadeth us with benefits! Where now is the Master of the Harvest? Come, let him rejoice with us!"
Putting Things In Perspective
Author Unknown
It sometimes helps to look at things from another perspective:
Lord, thank Thee for this sink of dirty dishes, We have plenty of food to eat.
Thank Thee for this pile of dirty laundry, We have plenty of nice clothes to wear.
And I would like to thank Thee, Lord for those unmade beds in there, They were so warm and so comfortable last night. I know that many have no bed.
My thanks to Thee, Lord, for this bathroom, complete with all the splattered mirrors, soggy, grimy towels and dirty lavoratory, They are so convenient.
Thank Thee for this finger smudged refrigerator that needs defrosting so badly, it has served us faithfully for many years. It is full of cold drinks and enough leftovers for two or three meals.
Thank Thee Lord, for this oven that absolutely must be cleaned today, It has baked so many things over the years.
The whole family is grateful for that tall grass that needs mowing and the lawn that needs raking; we all enjoy the yard.
Thank Thee, Lord, even for that slamming door. My kids are healthy and able to run and play.
Lord, the presence of all these chores awaiting me says Thou has richly blessed my family. I shall do them all cheerfully and I shall do them gratefully.
A Thanksgiving Devotion
Is it selfish to thank God for special blessings He has bestowed on you or your loved ones? This question was raised in our community several years ago. A powerful tornado had demolished a store, but the owner and several people had escaped unhurt. The businessman said he prayed, thanking God for keeping them safe. A local minister, though, responded by saying he thought such a prayer was selfish, especially since others in the area had been killed or injured.
It would have been selfish if that businessman had said, "Lord, I am thankful that the three people killed in that tornado were members of the Jones family instead of mine." But he didn't pray that way. He simply expressed gratitude to the Lord for what He had done in sparing him and his friends.
Do you possess good health? Thank God for it. Do you live in a comfortable house and have enough to eat? Praise God for what He has given you. The psalmist said, "It is good to give thanks to the Lord" (Ps. 92:1). But don't stop there. Accompany your thanksgiving with intercession for the ill and the needy. Then do what you can to help them.
It's not selfish to thank God for special favors He has done for you. In fact, you would be selfish if you didn't.
Ten thousand precious gift
My daily thanks employ;
Among them is a grateful heart
To take those gifts with joy.
Gratitude is a God-honoring attitude.
Psalm 92
(Psa 92:1 KJV) A Psalm or Song for the sabbath day. It is a good thing to give thanks unto the LORD, and to sing praises unto thy name, O most High:
(Psa 92:2 KJV) To show forth thy lovingkindness in the morning, and thy faithfulness every night,
(Psa 92:3 KJV) Upon an instrument of ten strings, and upon the psaltery; upon the harp with a solemn sound.
(Psa 92:4 KJV) For thou, LORD, hast made me glad through thy work: I will triumph in the works of thy hands.
(Psa 92:5 KJV) O LORD, how great are thy works! and thy thoughts are very deep.
(Psa 92:6 KJV) A brutish man knoweth not; neither doth a fool understand this.
(Psa 92:7 KJV) When the wicked spring as the grass, and when all the workers of iniquity do flourish; it is that they shall be destroyed for ever:
(Psa 92:8 KJV) But thou, LORD, art most high for evermore.
(Psa 92:9 KJV) For, lo, thine enemies, O LORD, for, lo, thine enemies shall perish; all the workers of iniquity shall be scattered.
(Psa 92:10 KJV) But my horn shalt thou exalt like the horn of an unicorn: I shall be anointed with fresh oil.
(Psa 92:11 KJV) Mine eye also shall see my desire on mine enemies, and mine ears shall hear my desire of the wicked that rise up against me.
(Psa 92:12 KJV) The righteous shall flourish like the palm tree: he shall grow like a cedar in Lebanon.
(Psa 92:13 KJV) Those that be planted in the house of the LORD shall flourish in the courts of our God.
(Psa 92:14 KJV) They shall still bring forth fruit in old age; they shall be fat and flourishing;
(Psa 92:15 KJV) To show that the LORD is upright: he is my rock, and there is no unrighteousness in him.
From Our Daily Bread - November 1998
The Thanksgiving Story
The Pilgrims set ground at Plymouth Rock on December 11, 1620. Their first winter was devastating. At the beginning of the following fall, they had lost 46 of the original 102 who sailed on the Mayflower. But the harvest of 1621 was a bountiful one. And the remaining colonists decided to celebrate with a feast -- including 91 Indians who had helped the Pilgrims survive their first year. The feast lasted three days.
Governor William Bradford sent "four men fowling" after wild ducks and geese. It is not certain that wild turkey was part of their feast. However, it is certain that they had venison. The term "turkey" was used by the Pilgrims to mean any sort of wild fowl.
Another modern staple at almost every Thanksgiving table is pumpkin pie. But it is unlikely that the first feast included that treat. The supply of flour had been long diminished, so there was no bread or pastries of any kind. However, they did eat boiled pumpkin, and they produced a type of fried bread from their corn crop. There was also no milk, cheese, cider, or butter. But the feast did include fish, berries, watercress, lobster, dried fruit, clams, venison, and plums.
This first "thanksgiving" feast was not repeated the following year. In fact, it wasn't until June of 1676 that another Day of Thanksgiving was proclaimed.
On June 20, 1676, the governing council of Charlestown, Massachusetts, held a meeting to determine how best to express thanks for the good fortune that had seen their community securely established. By unanimous vote they instructed Edward Rawson, the clerk, to proclaim June 29 as a day of thanksgiving. The following is that proclamation:
1ST PROCLAMATION
October of 1777 marked the first time that all 13 colonies joined in a thanksgiving celebration. It also commemorated the patriotic victory over the British at Saratoga. But it was a one-time affair.
George Washington wanted to proclaim a National Day of Thanksgiving in 1789, but discord among the colonies prevented it. Many felt the hardships of a few Pilgrims did not warrant a national holiday. And later, President Thomas Jefferson scoffed at the idea of having a day of thanksgiving.
It was Sarah Josepha Hale, a magazine editor, whose efforts eventually led to what we recognize as Thanksgiving. Hale wrote many editorials championing her cause in her Boston Ladies' Magazine, and later, in Godey's Lady's Book. Finally, after a 40-year campaign of writing editorials and letters to governors and presidents, Hale's obsession became a reality when, in 1863, President Lincoln proclaimed the last Thursday in November as a national day of Thanksgiving.
Since then, the date was changed only once, by Franklin Roosevelt, who set it up one week to the third Thursday in order to create a longer Christmas shopping season. Public uproar against this decision caused the president to move Thanksgiving back to its original date two years later.
Who Gets The Wishbone?*
If you believe your wish will come true when you win the break in a wishbone contest, then you're following in the footsteps of civilizations dating back to the Etruscans.
322 B.C. And -- it started with a hen, not a turkey.
In those days, when a man wanted an egg he waited for the hen to announce the coming of her product. This made the animal mystical in that it could tell the future -- and that led to what became known as the "hen oracles"
If you lived back then, and wanted to receive an answer to an important question from these oracles, you would draw a circle on the ground and divide it into the twenty-four letters of the alphabet. Grains of corn were placed in each section, and the cock or hen was led into the circle and then set free. It was believed that the fowl would spell out words or symbols by picking up kernels of corn from the different sections. For example, the first letter of a future husband's name would be the first kernel of corn picked. After writing the message, the fowl was sacrificed to a special deity and its collarbone was hung out to dry.
Then, you'd get to make a wish on the bone. Then two other people got a chance to make a wish by snapping the dried bone in the same way we do now, with each one pulling on an end. The person with the larger end of the bone got the wish -- and it became known as a "lucky break."
The Romans brought the wishbone tradition with them when they conquered England, and that's how we got it.
*According to "Knock On Wood," by Carole Potter/Beaufort Books Inc.
|
