by Nancy Creager
I was a new bride in the late 1960’s. I came from an overseas small country where they had never heard about Thanksgiving. My husband, a sailor then, had left for maneuvers within weeks of my arrival. I was left alone, with only rudimentary knowledge of the English language, and a landlady as contact for emergencies.
I set into a quiet routine in a modest home on the outskirts of San Diego, California. I knew some English words and I ventured some, but when people answered, I could only grasp a couple words here and there. Therefore I became shy, and released myself to my little house. I occupied my time walking to the nearby grocery and tending a small garden behind the house.
Next door lived a pleasant, quiet and diligent lady. Our houses were separated by a short wire fence; we saw each other when outdoors, and just smiled at each other. I was anxious to talk to her but my broken English was an impediment.
I started to feel lonely and isolated. I retreated to watching TV, especially soap operas. The actions between characters started to shade some light into what they were saying. I eagerly searched for means to open the blinds to my new world.
November, the cold breeze and rain arrived. One morning I felt an unusual excitement, people walked faster, children played outdoors, there was more traffic.
I saw the next door lady by the fence. She spoke and somehow I understood, “It’s Thanksgiving, a day to say thank you. We have lots of food. Do you like turkey?” I nodded yes. She continued, “Is someone visiting you today?” I nodded negatively. “We are having a turkey dinner, would you like a plate”?
Smiling eagerly, I nodded yes. She motioned to me to wait.
Later, after knocking on my kitchen door, with a coy smile, she handed me a huge, overflowing plate of food. It seemed as a plate set specially for a TV commercial, so deliciously placed with smooth-looking mashed potatoes, brown gravy, a red and nutty jelly, and some pieces of asparagus ornamentally placed.
I just stared at that plate of food for a long time. It was so pretty I had trouble disturbing the beauty of it.
What a great day that was. I was alone but felt surrounded by love. A quiet and unassuming lady had given me a plateful of kindness. That feeling is still overwhelming, I bring it to my mind especially at times when I need to remind myself that there is compassion spread out all around us, and sometimes it comes from unexpected places.
Soon after that my husband came back, and we immediately moved to another state. Life became busy, and sadly I never saw her again.
I hope that somehow she reads this story and knows that the shy lady still remembers the best plate of Thanksgiving dinner she ever had. It’s my duty to honor her by continuing to pay it forward.
2 thoughts on “My Best Thanksgiving Plate”
What a heart warming story! 🙂 Being non-ambulatory and in a wheelchair, I was resigned to a Hungry Man frozen TV dinner for my Thanksgiving meal. I belong to a Yahoo! Group of about 20 women scattered across the USA with one in Toronto. I have met a few of them in person, though mostly in cyber space. This wonderful group are all like family to me – so loving and supportive! Anyway, they all banded together and sent me a complete Thanksgiving feast with all the trimmings, including the pumpkin pie! My Thanksgiving heroes!! I am truly thankful and very blessed!!!
I am awe-struck by anyone who has the intelligence and courage to migrate to a country where she/he has to learn a new language, as well as leaving behind all his/her family, friends, other associates, and familiar customs and laws.