Following is an account of the First Thanksgiving as recorded by a very punny Pilgrim writer:
It was early morning of the great feast. Pilgrim women had been busy in the main cabin before sunrise, dashing about, peeling potatoes, turnips and apples, monitoring food in the fireplace, when one was heard to say, “Hard to be-leaf it’s already Thanksgiving.”
A cackle of laughter ensued, greatly encouraging other pun meisters.
“Pumpkin sure smells good in here!”
Being that one good pun deserves another, a woman holding a handful of turkey feathers said, “We’re plucky to assemble a feast so fine this year.”
“Poultry in motion,” sang out another.
“But can we pull it off?” cried a weary soul.
“Yes, we pecan!” came a resounding chorus.
“Is anyone keeping thyme?” asked another.
“We’ve got this ladies, we’re going to give them pumpkin to talk about!”
Yes, they were the sort of women who bake the world a better place. They were strong, stalwart and were not ones to take the path of yeast resistance.
After hours and hours of preparation, last but not feast, the women paraded the dishes to the tables.
“Y’all bready for this?”
There came an array of fruits, vegetables, hot dishes, cold dishes, fish, venison and wild game. It was, quite simply, a gourd-geous spread.
The guests oohed and aahed. “You aint seen stuffin’ yet!” cried a robust Pilgrim woman.
The tables creaked under the weight of the bounty. Gov. William Bradford announced there would be no fowl talk or getting sauced, said a blessing, and the feasting commenced.
It quickly became obvious that the candied sweet potatoes were going untouched. This was not unexpected — silence of the yams.
“Anymore rolls?” inquired one of the guests.
“You butter believe it.”
An altercation broke out between two Pilgrim families at the end of the table. “Squash the family drama!” Bradford yelled.
Family members didn’t always see pie-to-pie, but they did love a feast.
Meanwhile, at the edge of the forest, a young pilgrim boy whispered into a pilgrim girl’s ear, “Stuffin’ compares to you.”
To which she responded, “I’ve had a crust on you.”
Back at the table, hosts made the rounds with a decanter asking, “Wine not have another glass?”
It was eat, drink and cranberry.
Then it was time for dessert: Do or pie.
A chief took a serving of pumpkin, pecan and apple, nodded his thanks and said, “Piece out.”
Three days later, the feast was finally over. Leftovers were wrapped and sent home with the guests, plates and gobble-lets were washed, dried and put away.
The pilgrims all joined hands, said a prayer of thanks, raised their arms to the sky and shouted, “Whip, whip, hooray! Corn in the USA!”
Lori Borgman is a columnist, author and speaker. Reach her at [email protected].
