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I think Thanksgiving must be a difficult time for those who feel bereft or abandoned. I remember my first thanksgiving prayer with the children at the Soup Kitchen. Brother Ray and I had worked hard to promote prayers of gratitude among the children. One distraught 9 year old girl shouted out:“I ain’t thankful for anything. I don’t even know who my daddy is.” Her pain stayed with me for a long, long time—but eventually, her life got better and she often expressed words of gratitude.
Finally, it’s starting to seem like fall. I look forward to the cats and dog sleeping on me for their added warmth on the couch or in bed. The only thing is the last backyard clean up before winter arrives with the first snowfall. All the gourds, pumpkins, brassicas, squash all ready for harvest. I can’t wait to start mashing rutabagas with butter, roasting parsnips, turnips and sautéing swiss chard, kale with a pinch of nutmeg!
The weather has been fantastic this last week, which is great because I had almost forgotten what the sun looked like after all the rain we have had. That rain plus the warm weather has made the fungi go into overdrive, telling our Swiss chard, tomatoes and squash to take a hike, and eyeing up the potatoes pretty hard. Its ok, the Swiss Chard we had been steady harvesting on since May and it had given all it had to give. The tomatoes and squash had graced us with thousands of pounds of fruit, I’m not feeling disappointed. I have very little to be disappointed about, we finished the season out strong.
Many of you may have seen the TV coverage of the young black Detroiter Davontae Sanford who spent 10 years in prison for a crime he never committed. In June Davontae was set free and able to return to his family (having been in solitary confinement since 2007.)
Last week Davontae joined us at the Meldrum Kitchen to thank so many of the folks who supported him.