Thanksgiving fast approaches, and Sarah is obsessively stocking up on cranberries. She adores cranberry sauce, but her family has developed a devotion to it as well, causing a shortage of jellied goodness the past few years. Not so this November 27th. Cranberries shall pour from every corner of the table, and all shall rejoice in its abundance.
Speaking of cranberries, Sarah would like to take this opportunity to remind readers of that classic seasonal book, Cranberry Thanksgiving, by Wende and Harry Devlin. Now, or over the next few weeks, is the perfect time to pull out this delightful tale. For another Thanksgiving read, a continuation of last month’s tirade against abridged books, a lovely November poem, and more, read on.
Literary Thanksgiving
Obviously, snag Cranberry Thanksgiving (1971) in paperback or hardcover. Or if you’re pressed for time and can’t get the physical book, there are good YouTube read-alouds at your fingertips. Whether you listen to it or read it yourself, set the mood with a tea party and provide cranberry bread for all attendees.
Second, if you can find a copy of Laurie Halse Anderson’s Thank You, Sarah, (2002) obtain it posthaste. The history of Thanksgiving is fascinating, and this picture book is a wonderful introduction to the woman behind our beloved national holiday.
Louisa May Alcott
If you need a lovely “old-fashioned” story, full of warmth, cheer, and pure Americana, you can’t go wrong with the inestimable Ms. Alcott’s “An Old-Fashioned Thanksgiving.” A quick teaser:
Sixty years ago, up among the New Hampshire hills, lived Farmer Bassett, with a house full of sturdy sons and daughters growing up about him. They were poor in money, but rich in land and love, for the wide acres of wood, corn, and pasture land fed, warmed, and clothed the flock, while mutual patience, affection, and courage made the old farm-house a very happy home.
November had come; the crops were in, and barn, buttery, and bin were overflowing with the harvest that rewarded the summer’s hard work. The big kitchen was a jolly place just now, for in the great fire-place roared a cheerful fire; on the walls hung garlands of dried apples, onions, and corn; up aloft from the beams shone crook-necked squashes, juicy hams, and dried venison--for in those days deer still haunted the deep forests, and hunters flourished. Savory smells were in the air; on the crane hung steaming kettles, and down among the red embers copper sauce-pans simmered, all suggestive of some approaching feast.
Read it aloud, read it to yourself, do a dramatic reading with others—this is a tale worth your attention, particularly this time of year.
What the kids are reading
Keep reading with a 7-day free trial
Subscribe to Washington Review of Books to keep reading this post and get 7 days of free access to the full post archives.