A feast of the year when we all gather around and tell the world what we are thankful just being around and not in the ground

“Where” we break bread with the ones we love and tolerate the ones with don't.

“Where” the smell of fresh-baked cookies are in the air followed by laughter from a good story that lifts everyone's spirits

And by the end of the day we say goodbye with a hug and promise to keep in touch until next year when we do it all over again. Poem by Shelby Kathleen Nightingale