Thanksgiving Eve at the Rabbit Patch | Eastern North Carolina Now

    Publisher's note: Please join me in welcoming Author Michele Rhem, who presents us with her poignant memoirs of the Rabbit Patch, where her diaries weave tales of a simpler, expressive life lost to many, but gathered together in her most familiar environs - the Rabbit Patch.

    It is the eve of Thanksgiving. I look forward to this day about as much as the holiday, itself. Today is the day to bake pies and wash linens for overnight guests. The grocery stores are buzzing and many folks are packing their bags. Fancy dishes are being brought out from cupboards to be washed and porch lights will be left on, later than usual, to welcome loved ones home.

    I am making pumpkin, chocolate and banana cream pies, today. I am not sure why, but it just seems like pie is the traditional dessert for Thanksgiving. When my sister and I were little and took to arguing, our grandmama would say "you two would argue in a pie factory!" meaning we would rather fuss than eat pie! I can still hear her saying that, she said it so often.

    I am tidying up the old farmhouse and hoping the turkey thaws. I am making another large batch of biscuits for the "dressing"-and will light the kitchen fireplace to add to the holiday atmosphere. I have been saving some pricey candles for the holidays and they will be lit shortly.

    The weather is perfect- a cold night and a bright day ahead. Most often the trees are bare for the holiday, but this year a few colorful leaves remain boasting their tribute to autumn. I will gather a branch or two for the table. There will be wood smoke in the air from the hearth of the rabbit patch and frost will cover the pumpkins in the morning light.

    I am hoping to be up when the frost is on the pumpkins. I put the turkey on and drink coffee while the house starts to smell like Thanksgiving morning. Breakfast will be especially light, so to improve the appetite for the traditional feast.

    There is just something about Thanksgiving that stirs me deeply. I think about the first Thanksgiving, when the Native Americans gathered with those from across the ocean, who had come to make new lives. I think of the women from both sides, preparing different foods in different ways. Surely language itself, presented an obstacle. There is no telling how many practices of religion were present that day, yet in spite of all the differences, they united for a meal and gave thanks together. I suppose the children played together, as children still do today without barriers. I hope tomorrow, hearts across the nation, will unite for the sake of showing gratitude. The older I get, the more I think about such things.

    There are a lot of ways to live a life, but it seems to me, that practicing gratitude might be one of the best habits we can assume. Such a habit acts as tonic, I think- and it goes so well with pie.