Thanksgiving is a family holiday.
Each family has its unique transitions, whether special spins of tranditional
food or quaint customs. In my case,
since my father was a journalist for many years of his life, he always brought
up the following column by Art Buchwald, who wrote daily for the Washingon Post
until his death in 2007. It was written in 1952 and reprinted every year when
he was alive. So, as a tribute to him,
my father, good humor and fine writing, I present “Le Grand Thanksgiving” by Art
Buchwald:
This confidential column
was leaked to me by a high government official in the Plymouth colony on the
condition that I not reveal his name.
One of our most
important holidays is Thanksgiving Day, known in France as le Jour de
Merci Donnant.
Le Jour de Merci
Donnant was first started by a group of Pilgrims (Pèlerins) who fled
from l'Angleterre before
the McCarran Act to found a colony in the New World (le Nouveau
Monde) where they could shoot Indians (les Peaux-Rouges) and
eat turkey (dinde)
to their hearts' content.
They landed at a place
called Plymouth (now a famous voiture Américaine) in a wooden sailing ship called
the Mayflower (or Fleur de Mai ) in 1620. But while the Pèlerins
were killing the dindes, the Peaux-Rouges were killing the Pèlerins, and there
were several hard winters ahead for both of them. The only way the Peaux-Rouges
helped the Pelerins was when they taught them to grow corn (mais).
The reason they did this was because they liked corn with their Pèlerins.
In 1623, after another
harsh year, the Pèlerins' crops were so good that they decided to have a
celebration and give thanks because more mais was raised by the
Pèlerins than Pèlerins were killed by Peaux-Rouges.
Every year on the Jour
de Merci Donnant, parents tell their children an amusing story about the first
celebration.
It concerns a
brave capitaine named
Miles Standish (known in France as Kilometres Deboutish) and a young, shy lieutenant
named Jean Alden. Both of them were in love with a flower of Plymouth called
Priscilla Mullens (no translation). The vieux capitaine said to the jeune
lieutenant :
"Go to the damsel
Priscilla ( allez
très vite chez Priscilla), the loveliest maiden of Plymouth
( la
plus jolie demoiselle de Plymouth). Say that a blunt old
captain, a man not of words but of action ( un vieux Fanfan la Tulipe ),
offers his hand and his heart, the hand and heart of a soldier. Not in these
words, you know, but this, in short, is my meaning.
"I am a maker of
war ( je
suis un fabricant de la guerre ) and not a maker of phrases.
You, bred as a scholar ( vous, qui t'es pain comme un étudiant ), can say
it in elegant language, such as you read in your books of the pleadings and
wooings of lovers, such as you think best adapted to win the heart of the
maiden."
Although Jean was fit
to be tied ( convenable
très emballé ), friendship prevailed over love and he went to
his duty. But instead of using elegant language, he blurted out his mission.
Priscilla was muted with amazement and sorrow ( rendue muette
par l'étonnement et la tristesse ).
At length she
exclaimed, interrupting the ominous silence: "If the great captain of
Plymouth is so very eager to wed me, why does he not come himself and take the
trouble to woo me?" ( Où est-il, le vieux Kilometres? Pourquoi ne
vient-il pas auprès de moi pour tenter sa chance ?)
Jean said that
Kilometres Deboutish was very busy and didn't have time for those things. He
staggered on, telling what a wonderful husband Kilometres would make. Finally
Priscilla arched her eyebrows and said in a tremulous voice, "Why don't
you speak for yourself, Jean?" ( Chacun a son gout. )
And so, on the fourth
Thursday in November, American families sit down at a large table brimming with
tasty dishes and, for the only time during the year, eat better than the French
do.
No one can deny that
le Jour de Merci Donnant is a grande fête and no matter how well fed American
families are, they never forget to give thanks to Kilometres Deboutish, who
made this great day possible.
Thank you, Mr. Buchwald.
P.S. Come back, we need your sense of humor more than ever.
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