Thanksgiving is one of my favorite days of the year because it reminds us to give thanks and to count our blessings. Suddenly, so many things become so little when we realize how blessed and lucky we are.
~Joyce Giraud

“Can we please host Thanksgiving dinner?” my eleven-year-old daughter asked. I wanted to respond, “Not if I can help it.” I hated cooking, cleaning and anything related to hosting a dinner for twenty people. Going over to my sister’s house sounded much more appealing.

But I knew that wasn’t the answer she was looking for. Instead, I responded like any mom would who is hoping to avoid a debate. “Maybe.”

“YES!” My daughter screamed as she balled up her fist, moving it in a downward motion like she had just won the lottery.

“Why are you excited and saying ‘yes’?” I asked.

“Because ‘maybe’ always ends up being ‘yes,’ ” she said.

She had me there. Usually, her lawyer-level debate skills ended up turning my “maybes” into a “yes.”

“It isn’t a ‘yes’ yet. Now, go get ready for school.”

Over the next week, I made a long list of all the reasons why going to Auntie’s house for Thanksgiving would be far superior to hosting at our house. And then I won a turkey from a contest at the YMCA. If I didn’t know any better, I would have thought that my daughter had somehow rigged the contest.

“Guess who won a turkey?” I told her.

“YES!” Again, my daughter screamed as she pumped her fist.

“There you go saying ‘yes’ again. You didn’t even guess who,” I said.

“I can tell that you won, and that means we are going to host Thanksgiving,” she replied.

“Why do you want to host so badly anyway?” I asked.

“I want to decorate the house, bake, and have everyone here,” she said.

Sure, that’s easy for her to say. She doesn’t have to go to the grocery store, clean the entire house, and spend days cooking and baking. Or does she? If she wants this so badly, it only makes sense that she complete all the tasks involved in hosting.

“Okay, but you are going to have to grocery shop, clean, and help me every step of the way,” I said.

“YES!” Again, my daughter screamed as she pumped her fist.

Clearly, she had no idea what she was in for.

Nevertheless, when we went to the crowded grocery store before Thanksgiving, she was unfazed. She maintained her sunny disposition when we cleaned the house.

And then, when I didn’t think it was possible to be any happier, she looked elated when we cooked and baked.

When the big day came, and we were all seated around the table, I thought about all the preparations. My daughter had never complained and maintained a smile even when she did the less appealing things like taking out the garbage or cleaning the dirty dishes. Her enthusiasm was infectious, and I might even go so far as to say it was fun to host. The best part was spending time with her and realizing that something I thought was tedious could be fun.

“Mom, can we host Christmas?” she asked at the dinner table.

Even though I enjoyed hosting, I thought we were getting a little ahead of ourselves by discussing this before Thanksgiving was over.

“Maybe.”

“YES!” Again, my daughter screamed as she pumped her fist as if she had just won the lottery.

Looks like we will be hosting Christmas, too.

— Cheryl Maguire —