"Thanksgiving is a time for family and friends...a time to gather in the Harvest and give thanks for the rich bounty we have received. It is a time to share the many blessings we enjoy with those less fortunate..."

Every fall, sometime in early October, these or similar words would be intoned as we all trooped up the aisle of the church with our gifts of tinned and packaged foods in white paper bags to place at the foot of the pulpit- our white gifts, which would be parceled into hampers and delivered to those nameless "less fortunate"s.

We were happy to share what we had, to celebrate our good fortune, and to extend the bounty of our table to friends. We all looked forward to the feast that would follow on the Monday.

Some families we knew celebrated Thanksgiving on the Sunday of the long weekend, and that was usually the day of the big turkey dinner the base cooks would prepare for all the single men. Our family usually preferred to feast on the Monday. As Dad always extended the invitation to a few lonely single hands (single naval seamen). they knew if they played their cards right, they could not only enjoy the feast at the men's mess, they could score a family dinner as well.

...and what a feast it would be!

The turkey had been washed and cleaned first thing in the morning, having spent the night thawing somewhat in the sink.

Then my father would mix the stuffing, and soon the roaster would be brim-full of turkey-pulchritude, which was popped into the oven to begin its slow roasting.

The pumpkin pies, fragrant with nutmeg and allspice, had been baked the night before, and were residing in state in the bottom of the fridge, awaiting their snowy blanket of whipped cream.

Next potatoes, carrots, and turnips were pared and peeled, and set in their pots of water, ready to be boiled.

Home-made cranberry sauce, pickles, olives, and all manner of condiments were decanted into small bowls and carefully set out.

Later, just before the guests arrived, the table would be laid, the vegetables mashed, the cream whipped, the gravy finished, and the turkey set aside to rest before carving.

As we gathered around the table inhaling the mouthwatering, homey smells of turkey and rich gravy, and gazed upon the smiling eager faces of friends and family, we were all indeed very thankful for this wonderful opportunity to share our peace and good fortune - Thanksgiving.

Perfect Pumpkin Pie

Ingredients:

• 2 eggs
• 2/3 cup brown sugar
• 1/4 tsp ginger
• 1/4 tsp nutmeg
• 1/4 tsp allspice
• few grains salt
• 1 1/2 cups prepared pumpkin (cooked, sieved)
• 3/4 cup hot milk

Method:

• beat eggs until whites and yolks are well blended
• gradually beat in sugar, add spices and salt
• stir in pumpkin and milk
• pour into pastry-lined pie-plate
• bake at 450F for ten minutes, then reduce heat to 350 F
• continue baking for 20 - 25 minutes, or until firm
• cool and serve with whipped cream

When I was a little girl, growing up on a succession of military (naval) bases, I recall thinking that the farmers must be very happy indeed to have made their very own holiday.

After all, I reasoned, the farmers grew the crops that were now being gathered in, and everyone knew that the food we bought in the grocery stores came from the farmers.

Unless, of course we were living in the Arctic. Then, at least, the flour, the tinned butter, the powdered skim milk, and the dehydrated vegetables came from the base commissary.

Then the fresh meat came from one of our friends who went hunting with my dad, as did the fresh fish.

I was not, however, thankful for one particular fall vegetable that often arrives on the festive table - mercifully, not ours. I only ever tasted parsnips once as a child, and that was when we were out for dinner at the house of some friends of our parents.

We all adored turnips, and when the dish of aromatic but strangely pale vegetables came to me, I thought they were white turnips, and so took a large spoonful. So did my sister when her turn came.

There is a moment on one of my younger sister's children's records - Stanley Holloway reading "Winnie The Pooh" - wherein Tigger, who is trying to discover what foods Tiggers like, samples one of Eeyore's thistles, mistakenly thinking that "thistles are what Tiggers like best..."

Like Tigger, I, too, took a large mouthful, and gave a large crunch. Unlike Tigger, I did not spit out the offending mouthful crying, "Ouch! Hot!", but it was touch and go for a moment.

In the end mother's training won out and, catching her eye, I received the silent nod - permission to carefully spit out the mouthful from behind the ladylike cover of my napkin.

I have never actually eaten fiberglass insulation, but I am quite sure if it were heated and served with a dab of butter and some salt and pepper, it would feel and taste remarkably like that sharp, splintery, bitter mouthful of parsnip.

Now I knew why they never appeared on our dinner table. I should have noticed that neither of our parents took any.

Now, yams, on the other hand are one of the most marvelous things to come out of the earth. The brighter the orange color, the better they are.

The beta-carotene that gives them their bright orange color is a carotinoid with anti- viral,anti-cancer,anti-oxidant properties.

Yams are full of Vitamin A, Vitamin E and fiber and are believed to help to lower cholesterol and enhance digestive function naturally.

Baked yams are a favorite at our Thanksgiving feast, and my sister has mastered the art of the simple. classic baked yam.

I have served this to company for many years, and it has never failed to generate at least one request for the recipe.

Sometimes I jazz it up a bit to maintain the mystique, but it is one of the easiest and tastiest baked yam recipes you will ever find.

Baked Yams with Canadian Maple Syrup

Ingredients:

• 2 or 3 fresh Yams, peeled and cut into 1/2 to 3/4 inch thick slices
• butter, roughly 1 stick or 1/4 cup
• Maple Syrup - Some folks maintain the very best maple syrup comes from the Gatineau Hills, but any high-quality medium weight Maple Syrup will do quite well.

Method:

• stack the slices in rows a 9 X 13 x 2 inch lidded baking dish so that they overlap slightly
• dab generously with butter
• drizzle Maple Syrup over all - about 1/3 cup
• cover and bake at 350 F for one hour until very tender

The casserole dish I usually use for this is my large corning ware baking dish, which holds enough for a crowd. For a smaller dinner - four to six people - I have a pretty, round, brown earthenware baking dish that goes straight onto the table.

Some like to add halved pecans, chopped walnuts, or marshmallow topping. To me that is just painting the lily. This dish is so simple to make and so absolutely delicious, it can stand on its own. Each sweet, colorful bite almost melts on your tongue.