“Gobble, gobble, gobble,” said Mr. Turkey Cock proudly spreading
his wonderful turkey tail fan and looking as pompous as no one
but he can look.
“Oh, you funny, conceited bird,” said the boy named Billy, “you
won’t be so noisy next Thursday when we have you for Thanksgiving
dinner. But that reminds me--won’t somebody please tell me why
the turkey is called our National bird? I thought it was the
eagle. And why do we always have Thanksgiving Day on Thursday?”
“Well, you see, Son,” said Somebody, “it started this way. As you
of course know, our Pilgrim Fathers and Mothers came over in the
Mayflower and landed on Plymouth Rock on November 21st, 1620;
just one hundred and two brave souls in a strange land, full of
strange people who might well resent their being there. Although
it was late in the year and cold weather, they managed to build
themselves houses of a sort; but with the best that they could do
more than half of them perished that first terrible winter.
“When Spring came, those who were left, with the help of the
Indians, bravely planted the crops and started to make a home in
the wilderness. The Indians gave them corn for seed and taught
them how to plow the land and fertilize it, and with the seed
that they had brought with them they managed so well that when
harvest time came they had a bountiful yield. To express their
gratitude to God who had so marvelously prospered them, as well
as to show their friendliness to the Indians, Governor Bradford
issued a proclamation to the effect that they would have a
Thanksgiving feast to which Chief Massasoit and his braves were
to be invited, which should last from Thursday morning until
Saturday night. That was in October, 1621.
“But the Pilgrim Mothers, remembering the harvest festivals of
England, with the barbecued sheep and oxen which they used to
have, said ‘How can we make a feast? We have no meat.’ ‘Meat,’
said Governor Bradford, ‘why the woods are full of it.’ So he
sent four of his very best riflemen out into the forest for wild
turkeys, and they brought back so many that there was enough meat
for the three days feasting for the colonists and their guests,
the Indians. And ever since then no Thanksgiving feast could be
really right without a nice plump turkey.”
“Did the Indians like the feast?” asked the boy named Billy.
“Indeed they did,” said Somebody; “they liked it so well that
Chief Massasoit sent his young men back with a gift of nice fat
deer which they had shot especially for the colonists. Chief
Massasoit wanted to show Governor Bradford that the Indians knew
how to play fairly.”
“So that’s how Thanksgiving became,” said the boy named Billy.
“Yes,” answered Somebody, “but it was a long time after that
before it became the good old holiday that we know now.
“In the first year of his office, President George Washington
issued a proclamation recommending that November 26, 1789, be
kept as a day of “national thanksgiving” for the establishment
of a form of government that made for safety and happiness.
After that, it was only held at odd times, but in 1863 it became
a National holiday and the last Thursday in November is always
proclaimed by the President as a day of prayer and thanksgiving.”
“We’re going to have the whole family here for dinner this year,”
said the boy named Billy; “and we’re going to have turkey and
cranberry jelly and pumpkin pie ’n’ everything.”
“_Gobble_, gobble, gobble,” remarked Mr. Turkey Cock.
“We shall!” remarked the boy named Billy, laughing.
Christmas!
“God rest ye merry gentlemen
Let nothing you dismay,
Remember Christ our Savior
Was born on Christmas day,”
sang the boy named Billy, a bit off key. “_Billy_” begged Big
Sister, “please get that correctly--you’ll throw the whole choir
off if you sing it that way--come to the piano and I’ll drill you
until you can _sing_ it!”
“Run along now, you’re letter perfect,” said Big Sister after a
half-hour of practice, “I’m going to wrap up my gifts now, and
it’s no fair peeking, either.”
“Oh, I don’t care anything about your gifts,” said Billy, “I’m
going to stay right here and Somebody is going to tell me all
about Christmas and why we give gifts and everything. Was it
because the wise men brought gifts to the baby Jesus?”
“Perhaps,” said Somebody, “but it seems more likely that it grew
out of the realization of God’s great gift to the world--the
gifts of Love and Friendliness and Peace which He bestowed upon
us in sending His only son to teach us how to live.”
“‘Peace on earth, good will toward men,’” quoted Billy softly.
“That’s enough to make people happy.”
“Christmas was not always the happy time that it is now,” said
Somebody. “The early Christians had rather a hard time of it.”
“I remember,” said the boy named Billy, “I never could understand
how they had the courage to keep it up.”
“They were upholding Truth,” said Somebody, “and Truth is the
strongest thing in the world.”
“Was Christ really born on December 25th?” asked Billy.
“Probably not,” said Somebody. “The Eastern church celebrated
January 6th, as the date of birth, calling it Epiphania, while
the Western church celebrated December 25th, calling it Natalis.
The Pagans had a festival at this season of the year called
THE BIRTHDAY OF THE SUN of which they were very fond. Out of
this grew the idea of using that time to celebrate the birth of
Christ, the spiritual Sun of the world. This gradually took the
place of the old pagan festival.”
“The singing of Christmas songs is an English custom, is it not?”
asked Billy.
“Yes,” said Somebody. “There are many beautiful old-world customs
which were left behind when the Puritans came to the new world in
search of a place in which to worship in their own way.
“In Devonshire, England, it is said that the bees sing all night
long in their hives the night before Christmas, and if you are
wise you will go and wish them a Merry Christmas and hang a bit
of holly on each hive, else you may get no honey next year.
“And you must on no account ask to borrow a match or a bit of
fire on Christmas day, because fire is the symbol of the heart of
the house and of happiness, and you must always add to and not
take away from the happiness of others.
“In spite of the Puritan’s striving to leave behind them all the
old legends, several did survive. I remember that one Christmas
Eve when I was a small child, my mother being away at a party, I
was taken at midnight out to the stable to see the cattle, who
were supposed to be on their knees, worshipping the child who
was born in a manger.”
[Illustration: The Pagans had a Festival called the Birthday of
the Sun]
“And were they?” asked the boy named Billy.
“I couldn’t really say,” said Somebody, “but they all scrambled
to their feet when they saw the light of the lantern, and asked
for clover hay. It seemed to me that we had disturbed their
slumbers!
“In Norway is a most beautiful old custom that might well be
copied everywhere,” went on Somebody, “which is called ‘The
Ceremony of Feeding the Birds.’ Two or three days before
Christmas bunches of oats are placed on the roofs and tied to the
branches of trees and shrubs, loads of grain being brought into
the towns for the purpose. And no one would dream of sitting down
to his own dinner without first giving every animal on the place
an extra portion in the name of Christ.”
“How did the Christmas-tree custom first begin?” asked Billy.
“There is a tale to the effect that St. Boniface once came upon
a group of Pagans at the Thunder Oak to which a living child had
to be sacrificed every year, and, holding the Cross in front of
the victim told the story of the coming of Christ. The child was
saved, and the Oak destroyed by lightning, and in its place was
seen a young fir tree pointing with its tall green finger toward
heaven. From that time on Christianity was openly professed,
until it has now covered the whole world.
“Today the observance of Christmas is universal. In England and
America the little folks hang up their stockings in a row before
the fireplace--in France the children place wooden shoes on the
hearth to receive their gifts, and Norwegian children have a
lot of fun hunting their new toys which have been tucked away
in unexpected places. Everywhere it is above all the children’s
holiday.”
“That’s interesting,” said the boy named Billy. “Thank you and
Merry Christmas, Somebody.”
“Same to you Billy Boy,” said Somebody.