One of the cool things about living in New England is the everyday connection to history. I have been a life-long afficianado of American history, so living near places like Concord and Lexington thrills my historic sensabilites. This year, Edward’s third-grade class took their traditional field trip to Plimoth Plantation and to the Mayflower II. He has been regaling us all month with tidbits of Pilgrim and Wampanoag history.

This poem seems to capture the spirit of Thanksgiving for us this year.

First Thanksgiving
by Margaret Hillert

If I had been a Pilgrim child
Among the fields and forests wild
Where deer and turkey used to roam,
A cabin would have been my home
With fireplace and earthen floor
And bearskins hanging at the door.

I would have gathered berries bright
For candles fragrantly alight,
And dug for clams and picked the corn
And laid the table smooth and worn.
Or hunted nuts hard-shelled and good
And helped in any way I could,
With time to laugh and play and run
When Indian children came for fun.

And on the first Thanksgiving Day
I would have met with friends to pray
And thank the Lord for all his care
In keeping us together there.