Med anledning av dagen

Så här såg det med all säkerhet inte ut, pilgrimernas  första tacksägelsemiddag 1621, tillsammans med indianerna. Kanske åt man fågel, men förmodligen inte kalkon — och inga sötsaker, för sockret var slut. Dessutom hade man ännu inte någon ugn, så dagens ungsbakade kalkon är en betydligt senare tradition. Det finns de som funderat över om amerikanerna blev inspirerade av Dickens "A Christmas Carol"(1843), när det gäller kalkonen — den boken var mycket populär i Staterna — i kapitel fem köper Scrooge en kalkon till Bob Cratchit och hans familj.
Jag vet inte vilket år Lydia Maria Francis Child, (1802-1880), skrev sin tacksägelsedikt, det var sedan pumpapajen blivit tradition, men om kalkonen sägs inget.

The New-England Boy's Song about Thanksgiving Day

Over the river, and through the wood,

    To grandfather's house we go;

        The horse knows the way,

        To carry the sleigh,

    Through the white and drifted snow.

Over the river, and through the wood,

    To grandfather's house away!

        We would not stop

        For doll or top,

    For 't is Thanksgiving day.

Over the river, and through the wood,

    Oh, how the wind does blow!

        It stings the toes,

        And bites the nose,

    As over the ground we go.

Over the river, and through the wood,

    With a clear blue winter sky,

        The dogs do bark,

        And children hark,

    As we go jingling by.

Over the river, and through the wood,

    To have a first-rate play —

        Hear the bells ring

        Ting a ling ding,

    Hurra for Thanksgiving day!

Over the river, and through the wood —

    No matter for winds that blow;

        Or if we get

        The sleigh upset,

    Into a bank of snow.

Over the river, and through the wood,

    To see little John and Ann;

        We will kiss them all,

        And play snow-ball,

    And stay as long as we can.

Over the river, and through the wood,

    Trot fast, my dapple grey!

        Spring over the ground,

        Like a hunting hound,

    For 't is Thanksgiving day!

Over the river, and through the wood,

    And straight through the barn-yard gate;

        We seem to go

        Extremely slow,

    It is so hard to wait.

Over the river, and through the wood,

    Old Jowler hears our bells;

        He shakes his pow,

        With a loud bow wow,

    And thus the news he tells.

Over the river, and through the wood —

    When grandmother sees us come,

        She will say, Oh dear,

        The children are here,

    Bring a pie for every one.

Over the river, and through the wood —

    Now grandmother's cap I spy!

        Hurra for the fun!

        Is the pudding done?

    Hurra for the pumpkin pie!