OPINION: An unexpected Thanksgiving blessing
Dec. 4—Max wasn't looking forward to Thanksgiving.
Just two weeks earlier he celebrated his 75th birthday — alone. He had lost his wife Mabel of 52 years in May and their only child was in Arizona.
A lonely birthday was one thing, but Max and Mabel had been all about Thanksgiving. Not here at home, usually, but for many years they had traveled to Savannah, Georgia, on Thanksgiving weekend to help feed the homeless there. Their health stopped those trips several years ago, but they continued to contribute in financial ways as best they could.
This Thanksgiving, however, would be different.
Max said he contemplated what he would do on Thanksgiving, but every option seemed to be a lonely one. The only thing he planned for sure would be to sit in his favorite chair with a cup of coffee and watch the Macy's Parade. Beyond that, he just didn't know.
But on Wednesday, the night before Thanksgiving, Max decided to go to the store and get something for his holiday meal.
Turkey was out of the question. They were simply too large to even consider. And he knew he wouldn't be interested in all of the side dishes that typically go along with a Thanksgiving dinner, mostly because he didn't want to do all that cooking.
So Max slowly made his way to the frozen dessert area.
And stood there.
His eyes scanned the pumpkin pies, the sweet potato pies, cherry pies, pecan pies and blueberry pies. There were chocolate cream pies, Boston cream pies and some other pies he didn't recognize.
But no apple. The one pie he could envision best, since it was Mable's favorite.
No decision came to him as he stared at the pies. Instead, his mind began to wander to those fresh-baked pies Mabel used to make. The thought easily took him back to all the days right before Thanksgiving, when he would sit in his favorite chair and take in the aroma of her baking, and then cooling pies.
Most times, it was the turkey that was the star of the dinner for people he knew. But for him, it was the pie.
"Do you need some help?" came a voice from behind him, suddenly interrupting his thoughts.
The voice had come from a store clerk. She couldn't have been more than 18, probably still in high school. She had put her hand lightly on his shoulder as she asked if he needed help.
His old eyes looked into her young ones as he considered what to say.
Before he even realized it, Max was giving the young lady a Reader's Digest version of his past year. And through it all, she listened quietly.
When he had finished, Max wasn't exactly sure why he had shared his loneliness with this girl and he felt bad that he had. But things took an almost instant, unexpected turn for Max.
The young store clerk excused herself, walked a few feet away and got on her cell phone. Moments later, she came back to Max and announced that he was invited to her family's home for Thanksgiving dinner the next day — and she claimed that her parents insisted he come.
He balked, of course, attempting to give a list of reasons why he could not, should not and would not come.
One word stopped him in his tracks and changed his mind.
"Please?" the girl asked.
Well, Max did go to Thanksgiving dinner with that girl's family. He met her parents, a younger brother and two of the family's dogs. It was a typical Thanksgiving dinner with turkey, mashed potatoes, gravy, green bean casserole, yams and rolls.
And for dessert ... apple pie almost as good as Mabel used to make.
But that's not the best part of this story.
It's been five years since that special Thanksgiving day and Max is now 80. But he's spent every Thanksgiving — and some other special days — with the girl's family and, just recently, he was asked if he'd like to be the godfather of the girl's newborn baby girl ... named Grace Mabel.
This time, there was no list of reasons for why he could not, should not and would not say yes. He just simply said "yes."
W. Curt Vincent can be reached at 910-506-3023 or cvincent@laurinburgexchange.com.
