Nothing like a stellar piece of writing to kick off the Holidays!

18 Nov

Wise words from Young Writer Superstar Cassidy Cole,

True Thanksgiving Thoughts –Cassidy Cole

I feel like a chicken in a crowded chicken coop, mingling around being asked, “Do you remember me?” but I don’t. I hide my face as I make my way to the table with the “Thanksgiving-ey” appetizers. I am a shadow, not engaging with anyone, fearing to be criticized for what foods that are on my plate. In the back of my mind, I am thinking of what to say when I am asked what I am thankful for, feeling tempted to say, “My eating habits,” but avoid it, scared to be discriminated against. My dad always seems to act as if I am not around, ashamed of me, leaving me no other choice but to be with my cousins. They treat me as if I am the baby cousin, when the cousin closest in age to me is only three months older. The tone of voice has the “goochey-goo” sense as if I am a newborn with no sense of knowledge. I feel like the girl they had to invite because I am considered family. People engage in a conversation with me, I enjoy it if it is not about me in a negative way. This rarely happens. It’s always “why do you do…” or “why are you so…” ending with a “flaw” of mine; as if I don’t already see them. If I told anyone in my family something and I asked them what I said, they wouldn’t be able to answer, because they don’t remember. The backyard is where we eat when the Thanksgiving feast is served. The grass is always burnt brown and the weather is always grim (they probably would blame that on me as well). The hosting family’s house is always under-construction, there always seems to be something wrong with it from “too small” to “too big”; for them everything has to be perfect. They have been trying to make me perfect for years. But, truly, are they perfect? My family is obsessed with meat, and for family dinners it’s nothing but meat. Considering I am the only vegetarian in the family, I bring my own food. One year I came to the Thanksgiving dinner with no food. What am I going to do? I could go hungry and wait till I get home for my mom to nourish my hungry soul or I could go to the market and get food? What was I thinking? I’m only eleven years old; does my family really expect me to do so? Just then my cousin, the one that notices me and loves me, comes in the door of the house holding a Tupperware with steam rolling up the ends. She handed it to me and said “let’s have something other than tofu for a Thanksgiving dinner shall we?” Inside were slices of pizza, still warm. I took it downstairs to the basement where I spend my Thanksgivings every year. My cousins and I always play hide and seek on Thanksgiving; where they try to find the best place to hide, while I try to hide in plain sight so they would give effort to find me. I hide on the tall, narrow window sill. I felt so intelligent and clever to think of such a place to hide. I slipped as if I was on a mud slide, no way to stop myself. I collapsed and went crashing onto the cold, hard ground. I felt light-headed and bewildered; I was hurt in a room full of people who care little about me. Abruptly, sounds of sweet sympathy surrounded me questioning if I was okay. They know they needed to be my mom at that moment, the mom that kisses the area that got hurt and was tender. That moment I thought I was a member of a fairy tale family, the families that have family retreats and they get together constantly, and most of all, they care for everyone, even the ones their not quite fond of. Yes, I still feel like a third wheel, but I am just thankful that I have a family that would care for me if I got a simple paper cut. I felt at that moment like a chicken being saved from the feast table by my feathered family.

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One Response to “Nothing like a stellar piece of writing to kick off the Holidays!”

  1. Leala Pourier November 28, 2011 at 12:43 am #

    AMazing couldn’t have done it any better 🙂

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