The Adventures of Starmonia

Chapter Two: The Meaning of Thanksgiving

Cloudy quickly hurried into her house and slammed the front door shut, abandoning her backpack by the umbrella stand as she did so. “Mommy!” she barked. “Mommy, I’m home!”

Springtime glided from the kitchen and gave her daughter a welcoming hug. “Hello, dear. Where were you? All your siblings got home way before you.”

Cloudy shifted her weight from foot to foot, suddenly nervous. If all my siblings got home before me, then that must mean one of them must have told about the fight with Wylanda. And that means I’m gonna be in for the biggest beating of my life. But how can I possibly explain why I did what I did? “Um, it’s a long story. But to put it bluntly, I met this new student named Arrow.”

Springtime eyed her daughter with a kind smile. “Arrow, huh? You meean the boy from Leupochena?” Cloudy nodded. “Yes, I met his parents a few months ago. How nice that he goes to your school! Did you make friends with him?”

Cloudy furrowed her brow in puzzlement, wondering why her mother wasn’t mentioning the fight with Wylanda. “I did,” Cloudy said, dropping her eyes to the green linoleum, “but I have to confess that I sort of like him.”

Springtime raised an eyebrow. “Ohh. You mean ‘like’ as in you’re in love with him?”

“Ye-ah,” Cloudy said, not sure whether to be embarrassed or flattered. “Now don’t assume he’s my boyfriend or anything,” she quickly added, “because he’s not. We’re just really good friends. I learned he’s a Christian and that he’s practically the same age as me.”

“Wow,” Springtime murmured, straightening Cloudy’s off-kilter bow. “He sounds like a really kind boy.”

“Oh, he is! He is!” exclaimed Cloudy, leaping up and down. “He’s probably the sweetest boy I’ve ever met.”

“Maybe so,” Springtime said. A mischievous grin spread over her face. “I’m okay with you guys visiting one another, but no kissing, okay?”

The corners of Cloudy’s mouth tightened into a frown. She was clearly not amused. “Give me a break, Mommy. I wouldn’t do that.”

Springtime giggled and gave her daughter another hug. “I know, darling. I know. Now why don’t you come with me to the kitchen and help me make a cake for dessert tonight?”

Cloudy obliged, though she was confused. She had been expecting to be well-scolded by her mother about attacking Wylanda and receiving a lecture on respecting others. But Springtime still mentioned nothing about the incident. Could it be, Cloudy thought, that she doesn’t know? And if so, why did no one tell?

In a few minutes, flour, sugar, eggs, frosting, and other cooking articles were spread on the counter. Springtime gazed at the cookbook and asked Cloudy to hand her whatever needed to go into the wooden mixing bowl. Cloudy worked cheerfully and willingly, but her mind was still filled with the Thanksgiving story. She was dying to know the meaning of Thanksgiving, but had been too afraid to ask Mrs. Ivy.

Cloudy raised her head and looked at Springtime, who was intent on measuring out five cups of flour and dumping it in the bowl. Cloudy took a deep breath and made up her mind. She would ask her mother.

“Mommy?” Cloudy asked, her voice small.

“Yes, sweetheart?” Springtime patiently said.

Cloudy tapped her paw on the counter for a few seconds, then replied, “In history today, my teacher was telling me about this holiday called Thanksgiving.”

Springtime’s eyes lit up. “Ah, yes! Thanksgiving!” Straightening her apron, she narrated, “About three hundred years ago, the Pilgrims left their old home in Leudon and sailed on the Moonflower for sixty-five days before they landed in the New World. Many died of disease or malnutrition that first winter, but come spring, and Indian named Sumosot helped them, as well as Squinto and Missisoit. And that fall, they had the biggest feast probably ever known in all of Dreamlandian history.” She paused and asked, “Can you hand me two eggs?”

Cloudy nosed them across the counter to her. “Mrs. Ivy said the Pilgrims left their old home in order to worship God freely.”

Springtime nodded as she cracked open the eggs. “That’s right. You see, the king at that time was King James I. He was a brutal tyrant who told the Pilgrims that they had to do what he said and to stay with the Church of Anglen. However, the Pilgrims believed that the Church of Anglen taught many things that weren’t taught in the Bible. Some of those Pilgrims called themselves ‘Separatists’ because they broke ties with the Church of Anglen. King James was furious with their decision and even threw some of them in prison just because they believed differently than he did. He didn’t want them to choose what to believe in.”

Cloudy nodded and absently passed her mother the bag of sugar. “Interesting. I didn’t know about King James. He sounds very forceful.”

“Oh, he was. Especially when it came to religion,” answered Springtime, dumping four cups of sugar in the mixing bowl.

“Were there any mean people on the Moonflower?” Cloudy asked.

Springtime picked up the eggbeater and swirled it around in the cake mix. “Yes. Some sailors hated the Pilgrims for believing in God and praying to Him. In fact, one of those sailors talked often about throwing the Pilgrims to the sharks, but he died of a dreadful disease and was the first to be thrown overboard. Some people believed the hand of God caused him to die.”

“That’s weird,” Cloudy said, “but sort of cool at the same time.” She passed her mother some milk. “Who else was on the ship?”

“Well, let’s see. There was Willie Bronford, the governor; Milan Stondash, the military leader; Elder Brewston, the religious leader of the Pilgrims; Captain Johannes, the captain of the Moonflower; and Jon Howard. He fell overboard during a violent storm but was rescued. The Pilgrims took his rescue as a sign from God that they would make it to the New World.” Springtime took the eggbeater out of the mix. “While all the Pilgrims got along well for the most part, they were not in agreement when it came to landing at the Huckson River.”

“What do you mean?”

Springtime tested the batter to see how thick and smooth it was. “You see, Cloudy, there were two groups of Pilgrims: the Saints and the Strangers. The Strangers wanted to land at the Huckson River, but dangerous shoals on the shoreline prevented that, so they had to sail in a different direction. Needless to say, the Strangers were not happy, and a mutiny nearly occurred before Willie Bronford drew up something called the Moonflower Agreement. It basically said the Pilgrims would all stick together no matter what.”

“Wow!” Cloudy breathed. “My teacher didn’t give this much detail!”

“She’s just trying to keep your knowledge of this spectacular event to your grade level, honey.” Springtime picked up a container of cinnamon and dumped a little into a teaspoon. “Anyway, the Pilgrims all landed at Pimath Plantation and built the Common House that winter, but many people died that first winter of cold, disease, poor nutrition, lack of fresh water, and maybe despair too. But when spring arrived, and Indian named Sumosot befriended the Pilgrims and helped them. He brought Squinto, another Indian, after a few days, and Squinto showed the Pilgrims how to plant corn using herring, a type of fish. Later, Missisoit, his tribe, and the Pilgrims formed a peace treaty with one another. And that autumn, the Pilgrims and the Indians got together for a huge banquet. And that day became known as Thanksgiving.”

Cloudy pondered all this information. “But I don’t understand why we celebrate Thanksgiving,” she said. “What’s the meaning of it?”

Springtime finished mixing all the ingredients together and was now scooping the cake batter into a small round bowl. “Cloudy, we celebrate Thanksgiving so we can remember to be grateful for everything we have. We give thanks for everything God’s given us and what He’s done for us.” She put the eggbeater into the sink and used a butter knife to smooth the top of the mix. “The meaning of Thanksgiving is this, Cloudburst: Be thankful for what you have, big or small, because the Lord has blessed you with it.”

Cloudy stared at her mom as Springtime popped the cake into the oven to bake, then cleaned off the counter. Springtime apparently had learned to be grateful for what she had. She never grumbled about what she didn’t have. Cloudy couldn’t remember a time her mother was ungrateful about anything. I guess what Daddy always says is true, then, Cloudy thought. “When life gives you lemons, make lemonade.” That meant, her father would explain, that if life threw something hard or unappealing your direction, make the best out of it. Be grateful for what you do have and focus on the bright side instead of sitting in the dark and stewing about how unfair life was.

Springtime guided Cloudy to the sink and helped her rinse the egg yoke and cake mix off her paws, then wiped down the counter with disinfecting wipes. When she finished, Cloudy said softly, “Thanks, Mommy, for telling me about Thanksgiving. I never knew so much about it before.”

“You’re welcome, honey.” Springtime smiled softly. “If you ever want to talk to anyone, your father and I are here. You can tell us anything.”

Cloudy nodded and snuggled up to her mother. Then a question popped into her mind. “Mommy, are we going to do anything for Thanksgiving this year?” she asked.

Springtime chuckled and nodded. “Yes, dear. Your father and I have been talking about hosting a feast on our property and inviting as many people we can, friend or stranger.”

Cloudy started in surprise. “Whoa! You mean we’re just going to be inviting random strangers to our feast?”

“Everyone is welcome, my dear, and who knows? They may respond to the message of the gospel if they haven’t already,” Springtime said cheerfully. “You and your siblings can help. You can invite people from your school, starting tomorrow. Sound good?”

“For sure!” Cloudy barked in excitement and wriggled with happiness. Springtime laughed as she watched her daughter leap about and almost upset the trashcan. This was getting too intriguing! Thanksgiving was on its way!