
And the offer has been taken up every couple of years - some lonely privates, an American model that we got to know in Germany, and TONS of missionaries from our church.

We've continued the tradition even when back in the states, and it has always helped to have a couple of extra mouths to get rid of the HUGE amount of food my husband prepares every year (something to do with childhood memories of empty plates at Thanksgiving after his father left).

Today, two days before Thanksgiving, we found out that someone in my husband's work area would like to spend the holiday meal with.
B

Their mother.
Suddenly, the dynamics of Thursday have all been changed.
I mean, instead of a lonely, isolated military person, I am having:


And, even more frightening than that,
2) THE PERSON WHO RAISED HER.

Suddenly I am cleaning out corners that never see the light of day - I am stuffing all sorts of piles into the spare bedroom (AND LOCKING THE DOOR LEADING TO IT).
Please - wish me luck. I'm gonna need it.
1 comment:
Good luck! I bet all will be great. Happy Thanksgiving, Hope!
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