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Show I Yesteryear's 1 Feast Days I I 1 I y I LAURETTA JOY im QcreUnd PUin Dealer r-! vf' Tg ES, father, It went ofT all i,', rijlit, but It wasn't like Jo our Thanksgiving when "18 c',"l'r,n were home," j -gi'.'i. and mother anil grandmother grand-mother Bell winked back a sentimental tear. There were only two of them at the supper table with Its dabs of cold chicken and pork, cranberry Bauce, celery, nuts, cold quash, and all the orthodox remnants of the great American feast. The four children and twelve grandchildren grand-children had been feasted and feted In the old home and had gone on their way rejoicing after "the girls" had helped mother "do up the work." The house where Turn and Hob and Ruth and Alice had been born, where they had been fed and kissed and spunked, where they had scrapped and made up, and manifested the first sparks of the genius within them, was very still. "Yes, mother, It wasn't like the old Thanksgivings,-' said the man wiili most of the perklness of youth gone, and they were silent together. The mother was remembering those long-ago years when a home full of childish Joy In Thanksgiving or any holiday gave It a freshness and vigor that had dulled In later years, she leii.emhered the warm house wrapped In winter snows bubbling over with the zestful enthusiasm of childhood. I irst of all, there was their ke-n Joy In the distant vugue preparations for the holiday. She could sec Tom's grin ijii mm when sho sent him to the store for raisins and citron and almonds and the smiles of all of them when the big rich cuke was put In the old brown crock. There wa the day when Itulh and Hob came home with their "pieces" to speak In school the. day before Thanksgiving Thanksgiv-ing and Joyfully revealed that "teacher" had told them what they had known all along that s'howl would i -lone on Wednesday night and they didn't have to tome bark until Monday. And then their watchful, fearful waiting for the llrst snowllakes, and Tom getting out bis coaster and painting paint-ing the runners, and Ali-e and Uulh going to the woods for hltter.iweci and partridge berries and sprays of evergreen ever-green u n 'I decorating the mantel ujkJ windows and iin-hways. and then UlL day before, when father hilled nn dressed (he chicken or turkey in diiek. And what a hurry and hus.'le there was of cleaning, baking. longing long-ing and boiling, and hoiv golden ),.. dig kitchen was with the winter nun glancing through the maple ouUlds and how warm It was with the big oven sending out waves of warmll find (he odor of baking pie, cako mid cook ies. Arid then the great day llself no ni-cd to call her brood that day, for snow had come In the night and the boys hud risen wdl.li the Ib-ry red winter win-ter sun to try out Ihe sh-d before breakfast and bad come In all cold and rosy I" gulp down pancakes and Imp and ei's and bacon. And then, no matter how great the fenst nor how mm li remained l he done, the sit of 1 1 1 i ii were dre-wd In Kundsy bent and the family trailed down the while street In r huieh, melding meld-ing neighbors on the way, smiling, chatting, asking whether II was a lur-kev lur-kev or n chicken hill of fine this time, growing soberer ns they trailed Into the little while church and down to die pnv that held Ihe sli of them each Knbbnth. And then the triumphant I 'haiiksglf Ing hymns and p'"-alM from : m the choir, the sermon of plenty from the pastor, and the yellow winter sun streaming through the stained windows. win-dows. The benediction, the moment of chat and good will from neighbor to neighbor, a little herd guided down the steps where they hurst from church sobriety Into the puppy svlrlts demanded by a cold, snappy day. Home again and the last scramble for the feast the girls setting the table wdth the best linen, silver and china, with a bowl of tiny yellow chrysanthemums from the backyard bush, the trips down cellar for a cun of relish: tiny, tlrni pickles; some cMll sauce; strawberries, ahd the squash and carrots and turnips and potatoes and onions, each with Its part to play In the feast. The turkey or duck stuffed with spicy dressing was crackling away in the oven, father was out In the garden exhuming soma Celery put to bleach for the occasion a month or so ago, the boys were cracking nuta and polishing pol-ishing apples how sweet It was to do her work In her own place for those who needed and enjoyed this work how serene and sure and peaceful It all seemed looking back over those years all the doubt and torments of later years seemed Impossible. How had It come about? What had life done to her, to them? Her friends, her neighbors thought that life had used her kindly. Ivath had never knocked at the door of her fold. Sickness Sick-ness had tovn ulmo.it unknown. In he eyes of the world, her children had "turned out well." Tom wus councilman council-man In a big city and a prominent business attorney. He had married "a nice girl" and no one could ask for prettier, better mannered grandchildren grandchil-dren than this family had given her. Alice had married a physiciun atid was prominent socially anil In club work. Mother and Father Hell rarely picked up a Sunday paper without seeing a picture of "Mrs. John I Ira-bam" Ira-bam" or ojie. or other of the little lirahams, who were Included "among those prominent In the Juvenile set." Hob was a successful merchant and active In furthering employee welfare work. Ruth hail never married, but was more than successful as a home decorator. She traeled all she wanted want-ed to, dressed beautifully, maintained a charming upartment, was Imited to the homes of those whom the world calls "great" no, there was not one of her children who had not "done well" or win anything but a credit to the parents. And yet, why did 1 moiher hunger so even If her children were all that she had ever hoped for them? hy must heartaches and loneliness he the price to pay for this very success" Why did such a sense of bullied puzzlement puz-zlement 1111 her at the Thanksgiving table? Why did their coming not satisfy? sat-isfy? Why did this longing for the other days persist In seizing her? She knew the answer. Knew that their very success, their very homes, their very children, meant that her work was done. It was but a visit or a 'lay, and as such bail no faintest faint-est connection wilh the yesteryear yester-year feast das which tneant one home, one interest, inter-est, one working and playing niche for all. She and their father and their homo inai'e up their life's griKive then. Today To-day they lire ii. liking lik-ing those grooves for others and finding their own , herein. There are thou- f p rniinlry ov-r who flml only pitlniint I'MH'IIth'wh nri'l even Ml In ures In 11 n'pW IMon of tli" fVnM ilnyH which wrro no Joyful In diiym k"" hy. Th wlnh-r Mini Mill nlri'iiitiH throiu'h tin hiM-kynn nniph-H Into tin hltf kltrhi'ii. Tin mirnn oh rnnn hiilo- the tuiUcy nri'l Hqiimli nri'l mince) nri'l pumpkin pin, f'r Hi" hiiiii" ohl hroofl, Tim mime chlnii Mini mMwt (iri'I h"M( tulih-' loili niny h" upon th" (lining room Inhh', hut ThnnltriKlv-Iru ThnnltriKlv-Iru Im not w ) i n t It wuh. liven If thn ftunm tu'rn, with no hnwik lii thn ifinltH, mic ruiipf(l nhoiit the tjilih-. It n nil different now. They ii r" ciM'vf In the pluoi whern t hey wen' roiiiinoii worker. Thy urn Mnuiip'r In the home thnt unve them hit Mi. lions llf hold m other Job for l hf.M who jci v them fori h to the iotl'1? Tfiln In th qiitffjMoii thnt flllN the lonely hearts of many a mother and father Hell. Is there any balm for these heart-sore heart-sore parents who feel that life's twilight twi-light must be spent with folded hands thinking of the active life that Is over? or N It the old sti.ry of paying the price for everything which one attains In life? I think not. I think It's s matter of perverted viewpoint. In the first place, parents w !io conclude that IheJr life's work Is over Jmt because their children are grown and away from home, are only writing their own doom. Life Is not static. It Is ever flowing. flow-ing. The water goes on over the mill wheel and be who seeks to hold It hack will be ulde to scm.p up only s pail or so and keep It until It grows scummy. Many parents are like this. 1 The waters of their own lives flow en 1 deeply and smoothly Hnd when a ureteh of clesr, sparkling, lniiid water, wa-ter, which means a phase of living especially dear to them, conies along. ' the parents scoop It up and seek to hold It, forgetting that the mill Is go- ', Ing on Just the same. ' Parenthood Is an essentially ilear phase of living to most people. Nature 1 has a vital reason f,r this, but she does her Job too well. On Is Inclined to think that If she bad created a man or woman so thnt child rearing would j be Ihe one J.,h they craved during tlio l:is of their youth, hut would so ma'ui tiieiu that Ihey would crave another, Jnh when the children were growu and g'.lng ah. nit their own Jol of parent-bond, parent-bond, tiie old dame would have done1 a better Job. Then, too, It's a human Halt to re- member the fair and shining shin of things that are gone, urn hence in repine re-pine for them. j To go back to the !e fiiinlly: It hi Ii, ! the single damsel, glimpsed her par-' ents' mood to the full and discussed , it with her sister like thin: "You'd think to bear mother rnvn j that she was supremely happy when we were ali home, and some! hues U makes mn furious when 1 distinctly i recall how she fussed and worried and slewed around about one thing and an. ither where In Ihe world thn money for our winter underclothes was com- , Ing from, bow much schoolhonk cosf what In the world nhi. would do with j Rob's bad temper mid Tom's lying and . my vanity and your eiazlness after the hoys. And many a time she ina.ln her ' moan about how overworked and thankless her life was, and would thn time never come when she bad a 1 chance to rest and get a little peace?" And thal's that I If Mother and Father Fa-ther Pell live to he eighty they will look back upon Ihelr peaceful, serene, (lllct life together now as the best of Ihelr days, and at one hundred they j would regard (lie days of eighty as altogether desirable. If Thanksgiving doen nolhlni; else for us. may It ipilcken our vision of Ihe glories of (he present |