Thanksgiving Reflections

By Charlene Hoeflich

November 28, 2013

POMEROY — In 1976, long after Nelle Bing had left the area and was living in Manchester, Iowa, she penned a poem of her recollections about Thanksgiving on the family farm in Meigs County which was home to her for many years.

Bing, who was a nurse and is still remembered for her community work by some residents, was 92 when she wrote it.

She shared that poem with me and on a Thanksgiving Day many years ago it was printed in The Daily Sentinel.

I forgot all about it until I began looking through boxes of papers and pictures at my home on one of those days when I decided it was time to rid out the vast collection of stuff in boxes which I move around about once every few years and then put back on the same shelf from which I took it or in the store room for another day.

There it was.

I again choose to share it with our readers on this Thanksgiving Day for it contains a valuable message — that through the keeping of the holidays, we pass on the rich traditions of our families.

Enjoy and have a Happy Thanksgiving.

Thanksgiving on the Farm

By Nelle Bing

You may talk about life in the city

And your home so large and grand

With riches and comforts and luxuries

Always at your command.

But there’s nothing like life in the country

With a home so roomy and warm

And the day that brings sweet memories

Is Thanksgiving on the farm.

To be sure I love my children

And the home they give to me,

Yet my thoughts go wand’ring back

To my childhood days so free.

When Thanksgiving Day was nearing

And the fowls around the barn

Were growing plump, and ready

For Thanksgiving on the farm.

When we children fed the turkeys

Every evening, morn and noon

How we thought of good Thanksgiving

That would be here none too soon.

And what fun to watch the turkeys

As they fed in quick alarm

When we tried to catch the doomed ones

For Thanksgiving on the farm.

When excitement ruled the household

And the work was in full sway;

Dressing turkeys, cooking, baking

For the coming festal day.

We boys would take the pumpkins

And to the barn we’d run

Where we’d make our Jack-o’-lanterns

For Thanksgiving evening fun.

And at last the blessed morning

Dawned on earth so pure and bright

And the sun above the hilltops

Filled the world with radiant light.

Where the old farmhouse was crowded

With good farmers, aged and gray

And the merry happy children

Whose young hearts were light and gay.

“Twas a sight to see the table,

Surrounded by the cheerful crowd,

Laughing, talking, looking happy.

On their faces not a cloud.

Their hearts were raised in gratitude

To the One who shields from harm,

For His blessings, love and comforts

And Thanksgiving on the farm.

At last evening closed around us,

And each voice so clear and strong,

Filled the air with gentle music

Giving thanks in song.

How I love those pleasant memories

And their every little charm,

As I sit and dream in silence

Of Thanksgiving on the farm.