The Indians were stewards,
Of this primitive land,
Yet willing to give,
The fruits of their hand.
The Pilgrims were starving,
But grateful indeed,
They gave thanks to the Indians,
For food they would need.
So a new day was born,
That would survive the years,
Thanks and Giving were joined,
Sealed with smiles and with tears.
So when you sit down,
With family and friends,
Remember Thanksgiving,
And how it transcends.
It's not just about food,
And football on TV,
But about Thanksgiving,
How it came to be.
(c)  2004  Loree (Mason) O'Neil


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