Mexico weekly ledger., 1878-11-28
THANKSGIVING DAY.
By LoTTrE BROWN.


Another Thanksgiving. Bless me,
how times fliesl 1t seems but a little
while ago since I was sending my
greetings to everybody, and telling
what l knew about the old festal day,
and yet it is whole long year.
The house is fragrant with pastries
and sweet-meats; the atmosphere is
''foury," ''fruity" and "meaty;''
there lis great confusion of tongues,
and everybody is excited and happy.
We are looking forward to the COM
ing of some one near and dear. A
face that has long been strange one
to us comes to-day, and brings its
light into our hearts.
The boys and girls, the fathers and
mothers, are once more together, and
to-day, just to-day, we will forget
that we have ever been out into the
world away from home.
To-day we are again playing in the
familiar old rooms. looking forward
to the Thanksgiving dinner and the
merriment as something wondrously
jolly and satisfying; to-day we are
''mother's children" and not men
and women, working, thinking and
struggling,
Let me see-are we all here2 Are
there no vacant seats? Well, give
thanks if there are none. God has
indeed been good to you. II you are
all together, in health and strength,
you have enough for which to give
thanks.
If there are any, oh, sorrowing
mother, father, sister, brother, hus-
hand, wife, or child, what can say
to you? see your eyes upon the
empty chair, and know that all to-
days joy cannot shut out the tender
memory of the lost one, and yet /
have to have it so.
Who would forget? There is
something inexpressibly beautiful in
the recollection of their going, fraught
thouoh it was with such bitter pain.
There is an indefnable comfort in
talking of them to-day, in speaking
their names, and placing them in their
old places.
Ayear ago they were with us. He
or she sat here, and said something
which we shall never forget. To-
day-ah. who can tell of the perfect
life which they to-day understand?
| 1t is all over for them-all the pain
and tears; and we who are left be-
hind are only waiting for our time to
go. We are not to remain forever
mourning here, but only waiting for
the dawning of the knowledge
which has cone to them.
| But we are not all mourners. All,
no! Those voices which echo through
the house have no sound of tears With
in them. They have the glad music
of merry, happy hearts! In spite of
all the grief in the world, in spite Of
our own sorrowful recollectlons, we
are happy.
We laugh, we sing, we get raven
ously hungry and we eat the Thanks
giving dinner with relish. Yes, we
are glad to-day! The world is full
of music and feasting, and we must
eat, drink and be merry.
There are pies, puddings and pre-
serves there are fruits, confections
and meats; there are chickens and
turkeys, and all sorts Of good things,
on Thanksgiving Day.
There are happy children, in their
| best dresses; there are happy pa
rents, and grown up boys and girls ;
and there are lovers, married and sim
gle, on this Thanksgiving Day. Why
should we not be happy?
And there are hundreds Of Gods
poor about you, and let me plead q
little for them. In your own abun-
dance remember them. Mothers,
hold out tender hand to mothers
less fortunate than yourself! Faith
! ers, let the love for your own little
ones soften your heart toward those
who are poor and hungry.
Let the day be one Of thanksgiy-
: ing everywhere.