Thanksgiving

Nine years ago, at about the mid-point of my mission, I spent my second Thanksgiving in Thailand in a small Northeastern town. As missionaries, we decided to make an American-style Thanksgiving dinner as a fellowship activity for members and investigators (as well as satiate a bout of homesickness that comes at holiday time).

Elder Grillo, our district leader, found a turkey. We had it killed and plucked. Then we gathered with the members in our small branch to cook it. Turkeys in Thailand are called "ไก่งวง" - directly translated as "chicken with [elephant] trunk." They are fairly unfamiliar to Thais, as evidenced by this sister's disgust at the turkey head.With Elder Grillo and his companion making the turkey, my companion and I made mashed potatoes in a pot generally used for spicy papaya salad. Despite my scrubbing, the spices had not completely washed out. Through the mashing process, the spuds absorbed Thai pepper oils. The final flavor was enough to make my eyes water.

We also cobbled together a gravy out of bullion cubes, rice flour, and other flavors and spices. Green beans were easier to come by.

After all our preparations, we gathered at the church to serve a Thanksgiving feast for our members and investigators. They graciously tasted a little of everything. To their delight the potatoes were spicy. A few people even came up to me and said they were much better than the spuds they had tried at KFC in the major city a few hours away.

The turkey, though, did not meet expectations. It was too plain. They believed we had somehow messed up when cooking it.

So, when we missionaries weren't paying attention, a few members ran off with our turkey. They took the meat off the bones and mixed it into a spicy Thai stir fry before returning to the church, believing they had saved our Thanksgiving dinner. They also brought rice.

And so our attempt at providing an American Thanksgiving was thwarted by well-meaning Thais. Looking back, I am very grateful for that experience.

Thanksgiving 2010 was the 6th in a row away from home, and the 8th in 11 years I haven't been with family. Thankfully cell phones make it easy to call and chat, but I still miss family gathered at grandparents' homes. Time slips away, grandparents pass on, I move farther from siblings, cousins marry and have families of their own, and those opportunities for family gatherings I once felt would be constant are no longer certain.

But still, the Lord is good, and I am blessed beyond that which I deserve.

For the beauty of the earth,
For the beauty of the skies,
For the love which from my birth,
Over and around me lies.

For the beauty of each hour,
Of the day and of the night,
Hill and vale and tree and flower,
Sun and moon and stars of light.

For the joy of human love,
Brother, sister, parent, child,
Friends on earth and friends above,
For all gentle thoughts and mild.

Lord of all, to thee I raise,
This my hymn of grateful praise.

- "For the Beauty of the Earth" by Folliott S. Pierpoint