The Thanksgiving Turkey


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he sun peaked over the horizon. John Hillber was in his barn, where he had been working for many hours. Timothy, his youngest son, had just come from the house with a bucket of corn for the chickens and the turkey.

The turkey, by this time of year, was nice and plump for Thanksgiving, and Timothy prayed daily that it would grow bigger. A festive atmosphere mounted with each day, for Thanksgiving grew closer and closer.

As the father worked away in the barn, he took very little notice of Timothy, slowly walking down to the chicken coops to feed the chickens. It was such a normal occurrence. He lifted the latch and entered the chicken yard, which was enclosed by high fences and an adjoining yard that housed the rooster.

Timothy went about his usual business, feeding the chickens, and giving an extra helping to the turkey. He looked in concern, for the rooster (which was usually active and known to be fierce at times) was lying in the far corner of his yard, motionless.

"A righteous man regardeth the life of his beast: but the tender mercies of the wicked are cruel."

Timothy, in his concern, forgot his mother's warnings, and opened the gate to the rooster's yard.

All at once, the rooster jumped up and leaped at the young boy, digging his claws deep into Timothy's neck. Timothy fell down trying to fight off the bird's attack. But the rooster's relentless clawing began to wear down the boys resistance.

The turkey, sensing the danger, rushed into the yard. It lunged at the fiercely-taloned rooster and began to fight it off.

John heard the screaming of his little boy, and ran down the path to the chicken coops. He rushed into the chicken yard and saw Timothy, cut and bleeding on the ground.

The turkey continued to fight, until at last, the rooster retreated to the safety of his coop. John scooped his son up in his arms. The turkey watched, as John ran to the house with Timothy. His wife, by this time, had stepped out onto the porch to see what was going on.

Timothy recovered. The days passed, until at last, John went to get the Thanksgiving turkey.

The whole family gathered at the table as Papa began to carve the bird. Mama filled each plate with steaming mashed potatoes, and piping hot gravy.

As each member of the family was seated, their bewildered guest didn't know what to think. Papa then led them all in prayer.

"Heavenly Father, we thank You for providing us with food again on this joyous day. And thank you, Lord, for saving our son, Timothy. 'O give thanks unto the Lord; for He is good: because His mercy endureth for ever. Let them now that fear the Lord say, that His mercy endureth for ever. Honour the Lord with thy substance, and with the firstfruits of all thine increase: So shall thy barns be filled with plenty, and thy presses shall burst out with new wine.' In Jesus name, Amen."

The family sat down to a hardy meal of chicken while the honored guest ate a meal of puffed corn, in quanity, such-the-like, as a turkey never ate before. Never again was there a Thanksgiving turkey ON the table, but rather, one seated AT the table, as a proper guest.

"Blessed are they which do hunger and thirst after righteousness: for they shall be filled. Blessed are the merciful: for they shall obtain mercy."