"In every thing give thanks: for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus concerning you."
~I Thessalonians 5:18
 | As the holiday season fast approaches, I am thankful for my many blessings, and especially for my Val Pals. When I read and watch Mr. Kilmer in articles and interviews, I am reminded how much he gives of his abundance to those less fortunate. I hope you are inspired, as I am, to seek new ways to reach out to others.
As always, I thank the staff for their help with creating pages for which our visitors have expressed so much enjoyment. You can email Kildareme and Kahina to let them know how you like their work. To view last year's Thanksgiving page, click HERE. ~Witchee |
Thanksgiving Prose
It doesn't take a Real Genius to know that Thanksgiving is almost here.
Outside The Doors of your home, the True Romance of crisp leaves lying on the
ground, from the Willow trees, or turning up the Heat in your home, is a
clue. You may prefer to be on The Island of Dr. Moreau, sailing The Salton Sea
, or soaring to an exotic land on the Wings of Courage, but cooler weather
brings comfort and knowledge that this is The Real McCoy.
Whether you dine on Pollock or a plump, roasted, turkey, the stuffing and
apple pie treats, makes you feel like The Prince of Egypt. Even if you're
known as Joe the King, in your home, surrounded with the love of family and
friends, you won't fear The Ghost and the Darkness, because you're Top Gun.
William Bonney wasn't The Man Who Broke a Thousand Chains. Better known as Billy the Kid, he never had The Saint of home and hearth smile upon him. He
was orphaned at an early age.It wasn't a Top Secret that no Batman Forever could rescue him from One Too
Many gunslingers who wanted the price upon his head. He didn't commit any Murders in the Rue Morgue but still wound up with his name on a Tombstone.
But this is a poem about Thanksgiving and while I may feel like a Dead Girl after cooking for hours, it won't Kill Me Again to say, what's really important is not how much turkey we eat, who wins the football game, or whether human kind ever makes it to the Red Planet, but how we value and treat one another on this planet.
Thunderheart wasn't at Plymouth Rock but his Native American brothers were. They set the example of sharing and caring and loving one another.
Val says ,'I'm thankful that I'm Native American.' (1)
And I'm thankful for the positive examples he sets year round.
Happy Thanksgiving to Val and his fans.
Kahina
1 Entertainment Weekly, page issue #570, page12.
Sweet Petey Pumpkin
Hiding in the melon patch Sweet Petey grew
Plump and perfect and plum proud too
Of cleverly avoiding Halloween
When being a pumpkin means a pretty bad scene.
He’d heard ever since but a tender sprout
Of the carving up and the seeding out
And of flickering faces direly diverse
Tales of the legendary jack-o-lantern curse.
So having escaped, the little pumpkin dodger
Spent his days growing ever larger
Nestled beneath a browning vine
Smugly safe in the Fall sunshine.
Late in frosty November, as it came about
Petey heard a giggle and then a shout
What a surprise! A little boy tug
A little boy pull and a little boy hug!
"No, Daddy! Let me! There is nothing to it!
It’s a big ol’ punkin, but Batman can do it!"
So with one mighty "oomph" he gave the heave ho
And dad cracked a laugh as Petey plopped on a toe.
Into the house with the Thanksgiving treasure
The going was slow, every step measured
By the bumping of poor Petey’s pumpkin head
‘Cause Batman would accept no help from his dad.
Now, the coffee is hot and the cream it is whipping
And maybe for some, ice cream will be dripping
But those aren’t the source of our envious sighs
No, they’re for sweet Petey…..who’s Val’s pumpkin pie.
~Kildareme
Thanksgiving 2000
To God who gives our daily bread
A thankful song we raise,
And pray that he who sends us food
May fill our hearts with praise."
~Thomas Tallie
 An Account of the First ThanksgivingOur corn [i.e. wheat] did prove well, and God be praised, we
had a good increase of Indian corn, and our barley indifferent good, but
our peas not worth the gathering, for we feared they were too late sown.
They came up very well, and blossomed, but the sun parched them in
the blossom. Our harvest being gotten in, our governor sent four men
on fowling, that so we might after a special manner rejoice together after
we had gathered the fruit of our labors. They four in one day killed
as much fowl as, with a little help beside, served the company almost a week.
At which time, amongst other recreations, we exercised our arms, many
of the Indians coming amongst us, and among the rest their greatest king
Massasoit, with some ninety men, whom for three days we entertained and feasted,
and they went out and killed five deer, which they brought to the plantation
and bestowed on our governor, and upon the captain and others. And
although it be not always so plentiful as it was at this time with us, yet
by the goodness of God, we are so far from want that we often wish you partakers
of our plenty. |
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