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“ thanksgiving day ” by lydia maria child. Thanksgiving is a holiday that often inspires celebrants to wax poetic. Those nights, i fed her to sleep,. She will walk in glowing, we will talk,. There was very little for them to eat, nothing special and nothing sweet;
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I remember here by the fire, in the flickering reds and saffrons, they came in. But peace and mercy and jonathan. And patience, in a row, stood up and asked a blessing on. Those nights, i fed her to sleep,.
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Only bread and a little broth, and a bit of fruit (and no tablecloth): I will smell her hair! Web first thanksgiving matte, glossy. We who are here present thank.
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