A Thanksgiving Story

Autumn gazed sadly at the November calendar. The X’s marking the end of a day were slowly drawing closer to the tiny, evil column dated November 27, which signaled the day she would be lying on a plate without feathers and a head. Slowly she wrenched her gaze from the jaunty page with a turkey on the top and resigned to pacing about in her pen with other gobble fowl. They were fine, because they weren’t selected to be eaten. Hadn’t she heard the farmer single her out? He had said, “Autumn would be a nice feast on Thanksgiving. Good thing Ben Franklin’s wild turkey wasn’t chosen as the national bird!” The couple had departed laughing, leaving poor Autumn to brood over her newfound misery.

It was the turkey naptime, but Autumn couldn’t sleep. She just sat there, doing nothing, when she noticed something glittering outside the fence of the coop. It sparkled a bright azure against the dry, yellow grass. Autumn couldn’t resist; she had to find out what the thing was. As she pondered, she realized the farmer had left the door of the pen swinging open. Hardly daring to believe it, Autumn strutted forward and gave the gate a gentle push. Now it opened wide enough to admit freedom! She could quickly escape, but first, she needed to identify the blue object. So Autumn walked forward to the blue glitter, and gasped at the real thing.

A gigantic sapphire, about the size of a chicken egg, lay there casually. Centering it was an emerald that served as a sort of button. The whole blue mass was fringed with gold, and attached was a golden chain, so the jewel could be worn like a necklace. Gingerly Autumn flipped it over, and read a tiny golden script:

Time Traveling Device
Put around your neck,
Think of your destination,
And press the emerald.

Breathless with delight, Autumn found something better than escape. She could save the turkeys of past, present, and future, not just herself! Slipping the chain over her head, Autumn thought vividly of the National Bird Election, and pressed the emerald.

Nothing happened.

Sighing dejectedly, Autumn was about to take off the gem when a blinding white flash hit her head-on. Squawking with fright, she stumbled backwards into a green lawn as the flash dispersed.

A green lawn? This was not the old run-down barn of Farmer John. Autumn looked about. Across the neatly trimmed lawn was a great, colossal mansion of a grayish color. The White House! she realized. Only this was the time before it was painted white to cover burns. Inside was the National Bird Election! Autumn hurried forward and, after a minute’s hesitation, stepped inside.

Suddenly Autumn found herself in a great, spacious room with a table in the center. On the table was a box, probably containing votes for the National Bird! She hopped onto the table to investigate. Next to the box were 2 piles of paper. One said “Bald Eagle.” The other said “Wild Turkey.” Autumn knew what to do. Quickly she unlatched the box, and rummaging, found all the Bald Eagle votes. She couldn’t replace everything; that would be suspicious. The clever turkey put back some of the votes for Bald Eagles, and replaced the rest with Wild Turkey votes. Then she rearranged the pile until it was as neat as before, and latched the box again. Now everything was just right. Elated with success, Autumn slipped on the Time Traveling Device, and pressed the emerald while thinking of home. Another flash, and Autumn was there next to the coop. She went inside and hid the sapphire under some hay, then went to sleep liked the rest.

It was Thanksgiving, and Autumn watched with satisfaction as Farmer John ate pork chops with his family. She heard him say, “Turkeys were original, but you can’t eat the National Bird!” He chuckled to himself, the rest of the family laughing.

Autumn could never feel more happy.

[本镜按]吾观美利坚开国之初，百废待兴，百业待举，择国鸟一事，亦迫在眉睫，本君弗兰克林排众议，力荐本土之奇鸟，俗名唤作火鸡者也，本君为其著文立传，咏其诸多美德，然温良之品性难敌霸道之气势，国鸟殊荣终旁落秃鹰之项。今吾辈观之，唯一笑耳。
时值感恩佳节，函函之师嘱其作文议事，述火鸡何以逃此一劫，遂成此文。然，细观小女之伎俩，为母堪忧，古人云“管中窥豹，可见一斑”，民主竞选，竟然作弊，歪思邪念，必当遏之于萌芽，方不负开国先贤之鲜血头颅，继往开来，为寰宇诸国树清新之风，辟静好之世，则吾国幸甚，吾民幸甚。