A St. Stephens Thanksgiving

“Y’all ‘bout ready to eat?” comes a voice from the kitchen in the back of the house. Even though her voice had to travel over so many other voices, Grandma was well versed at getting her point across in a large crowd. With eleven children and dozens of grandchildren and great grandchildren, she had learned to make sure that her voice was heard.

It was definitely heard.

When she spoke, everyone got quiet and listened. It was a sign of respect mixed with maybe just a little bit of fear. You really did not want to hear the next level of voice if she wasn’t heard the first time.

“Y’all gather around the table and get ready for the blessing!” she yelled from the kitchen. That little rush of fear would stab me in the stomach, worrying that I might be the next one called on to bless the meal for this huge crowd. “Will you say the blessing?” she said, as she pointed to one of my uncles. “Whew!” I thought to myself, as I stood from my semi squatting position, in hopes she didn’t see me in the crowd.

“Y’all get in line, grab your plates and forks right here,” she continued to yell, as the voices in the room got louder again. “Y’all let the men go first and then y’all can fix your small children’s plates,” she instructed her daughters. That’s the way she wanted the line around the food table organized. And we obeyed.

Grandma would sit on her stool, in the corner of the dining room, and watch the crowds pass by as we loaded our plates. Giant bowls of macaroni and cheese, turkey and dressing, vegetables, potato casseroles and so much more filled the table. The smells of Thanksgiving filled the room. It was obvious that she was happy when her family was with her and she was taking care of them.

“Y’all get plenty!” she said as we passed by her. “Come here and give me a hug,” she would say if we hadn’t already made it through the crowd to see her earlier.

The huge servings of food looked like enough to feed an army.

And it was.

An army of folks who loved their Mom and Grandma. An army of folks who were excited to be in a house with all their family. And a happy Grandma, who smiled through exhaustion, pleased with yet another family gathering.

I was lucky to grow up having a huge family on my Mom’s side and a small family on my Dad’s. The best of both worlds.

Such wonderful memories of both family Thanksgiving gatherings.

From the mind of me.