My Mother, Valentina, will be 102 years old next Valentine's Day. Her short-term memory is pretty well shot but her sense of humor remains and she still has a treasure chest full of stories. Recently, she told me of this Thanksgiving we celebrated when I was about 5 years old.
It was the very depth of the depression, the mid-1930s, and there was simply no money. On top of this, my father had failed, in his usual hunting ventures, to get a 'bird' for our Thanksgiving dinner. Although my father had failed to 'bag a bird' he did return with several very plump rabbits. We raised chickens on our several acres near the town limits and also had some pork and beef on occasion from my great uncle's vast farm. But my mother wanted something besides chicken or squirrels (always a staple in season thanks to my father's expert shooting) so my parents decided on rabbit for our feast. When I heard of this they had one hysterical kid on their hands. This because to me a rabbit was the Easter Bunny and no way were we going to eat him for dinner. It took some desperate explaining from my parents to convince me that rabbits were rabbits and the Easter Bunny was an entirely different species - not even a distant cousin. They led me to understand that the Easter Bunny and his wife and assistants were already busy with dyes and maps for coloring and hiding the eggs for next spring. And so for me not to fret about our eating rabbit.
Thus consoled, and greatly relieved, I joined my folks in enjoying a delicious Thanksgiving Day dinner. We grew all kinds of vegetables and gathered nuts and berries in season and my mother canned everything so she prepared mashed potatoes and gravy, candied yams, green beans cooked with onions and walnuts, corn pudding and of course we had blueberry and pumpkin pies for dessert. The one extravagance, and my mother laughed heartily when she mentioned this, was to invest about 15 cents in fresh oysters. These she removed from their shells, washed and diced and cooked up our favorite dressing stuffed into the roasted rabbit.
Mother said it was a Thanksgiving that stood out in her memory. We had finished building our little bungalow on Harpertown Road and were not in debt. My father was working at the local pool room and being paid 50 cents an hour (he would eventually buy the business) and we were all in good health. In short, we were faring so much better than so many folks at that very scary time. She finished the reverie by saying that, really, it was probably the very best Thanksgiving in her memory.
So, everyone - whatever your main dish, even vegetables, if you happen to be a vegetarian, have a wonderful feast, a happy, grateful celebration on this special day, Thanksgiving. And, yes, the Easter Bunny will be here in the spring. I promise!
