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As a little girl, every Thanksgiving we always when to Grandma's to visit. It seemed as if it took forever to get to Grandma's house.
When we arrived at the house, Grandma and Papa would be standing on the porch waiting anxiously to see us. They were two of the most beautiful people in the world. My two brothers and I raced to be the first to get a hug from my grandparents.
"Hi Grandma," I said as I ran to be the first to hug her.
"Well, hello dear," she said as she hugged me.
My mother and father were just as excited as we were. It would be a glorious holiday. Thanksgiving is a special time at grandma's. There is delightful Thanksgiving decoration all around the house. What a wonderful place to be during the holidays.
The turkey is roasting in the oven. She had plenty of cakes and pies. She knew how much I loved to eat her cooking.
We all set around the fireplace drinking hot chocolate as Grandma and Papa told us wonderful stories about their childhood. We heard the same stories year after year. They never get old. It was as if you learn something new each time the stories were told.
Some of my favorite Thanksgiving books today are:
Grandma's favorite Thanksgiving quotes.
There is one day that is ours. Thanksgiving Day is the one day that is purely American.
To give thanks in solitude is enough. Thanksgiving has wings and goes where it must go. Your prayer knows much more about it than you do. Victor Hugo
Pride slays thanksgiving, but a humble mind is the soil out of which thanks naturally grow. A proud man is seldom a grateful man, for he never thinks he gets as much as he deserves.
Henry Ward Beecher
I have written an ebook on "Gratitude and Thanksgiving" it contains many beautiful quotes and scriptures. Click the image and check it out.
It will surely inspire you to count your blessings daily.
A Lovely Thanksgiving Poem
William Ernest Henley 1849 - 1902
From brief delights that rise to me
Out of unfathomable dole,
I thank whatever gods there be
For mine unconquerable soul.
In the strong clutch of Circumstance
It has not winced, nor groaned aloud.
Before the blows of eyeless chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.
I front unfeared the threat of space
And dwindle into dark again.
My work is done, I take my plae
Among the years that wart for men.
My life, my broken life must be
One unsuccourable dole.
I thank the gods - they gave to me
A dauntless and defiant soul.