Thanksgiving...a day not like the others

a thinkwriter remembers ...

I am so excited about today; today being Thanksgiving. It’s early, and Daddy is getting the car so we can go to the Children’s Home to pick up a girl my age named Rebecca. She’s going to spend the day with us – from early this morning to late this afternoon. I am so excited! Naturally, I want her to spend the night, but Mother has already warned me that she can’t spend the night, so don’t ask again.

Rebecca seems quiet at school, and to me she looks like a person with parents and somewhere familiar to go on Thanksgiving. She looks like any other girl I know, but I guess she’s different.

Daddy has on a plaid shirt, and he looks ready for company. I sit in the front seat with him, and finally we are pulling out of the driveway to make our way to the Children’s Home. I thought this day would never get here. I can’t believe Daddy will soon be walking up to the front door of one of those red brick buildings to bring someone out to come to our house.

I always notice the Children’s Home when I walk to school, because my short cut is through their property. The grounds are large with tall trees growing here and there – like woods without enough trees, and for some reason, I often feel scared walking there. As soon as I get to the edge, I start feeling a bit lonely and small – especially when it’s getting dark outside or rain is coming. When that happens, I run through the open woods and only feel relaxed when I am on the other side. I spy the red brick buildings out of the corner of my eye and wonder what goes on inside.

Rebecca finally comes out with Daddy. She’s dressed like me, with nice corduroy pants and a shirt. We ride home mostly in silence. Daddy lets us out at the front door and then drives the car around back to put it in the garage. Rebecca comes in the front of the house with me and everyone pretty much stares at her at first, but she just stands there looking calm. Finally, we go upstairs to play.

In a little while, or so it seems to me, we are all sitting at the table ready to eat. Everything looks beautiful. Mother says I have to re-introduce Rebecca, even though everyone already knows who she is. But it’s okay; I feel so proud to be sharing my family and our Thanksgiving Day with her. Because Rebecca is here, everything feels a little different. We all seem to be on our best behavior – as though we are being reviewed by Rebecca for some reason. It feels weird – and special maybe – but everyone plays along.

And then later, just like I predicted, I feel really sad when the special day is over too soon and Rebecca has to leave. Daddy goes back out to the garage to bring the car around, and Rebecca says goodbye.

I want us to be friends at school, but we never really are friends at school. We rarely see each other, in fact, and when we do, it is awkward. She has a different teacher than I do, and our recess time is not the same either. I wave to her when I see her, but she never seeks me out nor I her, I suppose. We really did enjoy a good Thanksgiving Day though, and I guess that’s all we’ll ever share – a single day not like the others.