Pilgrims @ MindSay 
I was looking for something different to post here ... something thought-provoking, but still upbeat. I found this lovely tale. It's long, but ... worth the read. I hope someone will enjoy it's unique perspective of the holiday. :)
The First New England Christmas
by G.L. Stone and M.G. Fickett
It was a warm and pleasant Saturday--that twenty-third of December, 1620. The winter wind had blown itself away in the storm of the day before, and the air was clear and balmy. The people on board the Mayflower were glad of the pleasant day. It was three long months since they had started from Plymouth, in England, to seek a home across the ocean. Now they had come into a harbour that they named New Plymouth, in the country of New England. Other people called these voyagers Pilgrims, which means wanderers. A long while before, the Pilgrims had lived in England; later they made their home with the Dutch in Holland; finally they had said goodbye to their friends in Holland and in England, and had sailed away to America.
There were only one hundred and two of the Pilgrims on the Mayflower, but they were brave and strong and full of hope. Now the Mayflower was the only home they had; yet if this weather lasted they might soon have warm log-cabins to live in. This very afternoon the men had gone ashore to cut down the large trees.
The women of the Mayflower were busy, too. Some were spinning, some knitting, some sewing. It was so bright and pleasant that Mistress Rose Standish had taken out her knitting and had gone to sit a little while on deck. She was too weak to face rough weather, and she wanted to enjoy the warm sunshine and the clear salt air. By her side was Mistress Brewster, the minister's wife. Everybody loved Mistress Standish and Mistress Brewster, for neither of them ever spoke unkindly.
The air on deck would have been warm even on a colder day, for in one corner a bright fire was burning. It would seem strange now, would it not, to see a fire on the deck of a vessel? But in those days, when the weather was pleasant, people on shipboard did their cooking on deck.
The Pilgrims had no stoves, and Mistress Carver's maid had built this fire on a large hearth covered with sand. She had hung a great kettle on the crane over the fire, where the onion soup for supper was now simmering slowly.
Near the fire sat a little girl, busily playing and singing to herself. Little Remember Allerton was only six years old, but she liked to be with Hannah, Mistress Carver's maid. This afternoon Remember had been watching Hannah build the fire and make the soup. Now the little girl was playing with the Indian arrowheads her father had brought her the night before. She was singing the words of the old psalm:
"Shout to Jehovah, all the earth, Serve ye Jehovah with gladness; before Him bow with singing mirth."
"Ah, child, methinks the children of Old England are singing different words from those to-day," spoke Hannah at length, with a faraway look in her eyes.
"Why, Hannah? What songs are the little English children singing now?" questioned Remember in surprise.
"It lacks but two days of Christmas, child, and in my old home everybody is singing Merry Christmas songs."
"But thou hast not told me what is Christmas!' persisted the child.
"Ah, me! Thou dost not know, 'tis true. Christmas, Remember, is the birthday of the Christ-Child, of Jesus, whom thou hast learned to love," Hannah answered softly.
"But what makes the English children so happy then? And we are English, thou hast told me, Hannah. Why don't we keep Christmas, too?"
"In sooth we are English, child. But the reason why we do not sing the Christmas carols or play the Christmas games makes a long, long story, Remember. Hannah cannot tell it so that little children will understand. Thou must ask some other, child."
Hannah and the little girl were just then near the two women on the deck, and Remember said:
"Mistress Brewster, Hannah sayeth she knoweth not how to tell why Love and Wrestling and Constance and the others do not sing the Christmas songs or play the Christmas games. But thou wilt tell me wilt thou not?" she added coaxingly.
A sad look came into Mistress Brewster's eyes, and Mistress Standish looked grave, too. No one spoke for a few seconds, until Hannah said almost sharply:
"Why could we not burn a Yule log Monday, and make some meal into little cakes for the children?"
"Nay, Hannah," answered the gentle voice of Mistress Brewster. "Such are but vain shows and not for those of us who believe in holier things. But," she added, with a kind glance at little Remember, "wouldst thou like to know why we have left Old England and do not keep the Christmas Day? Thou canst not understand it all, child, and yet it may do thee no harm to hear the story. It may help thee to be a brave and happy little girl in the midst of our hard life."
"Surely it can do no harm, Mistress Brewster," spoke Rose Standish, gently. "Remember is a little Pilgrim now, and she ought, methinks, to know something of the reason for our wandering. Come here, child, and sit by me, while good Mistress Brewster tells thee how cruel men have made us suffer. Then will I sing thee one of the Christmas carols."
With these words she held out her hands to little Remember, who ran quickly to the side of Mistress Standish, and eagerly waited for the story to begin.
"We have not always lived in Holland, Remember. Most of us were born in England, and England is the best country in the world. 'Tis a land to be proud of, Remember, though some of its rulers have been wicked and cruel.
"Long before you were born, when your mother was a little girl, the English king said that everybody in the land ought to think as he thought, and go to a church like his. He said he would send us away from England if we did not do as he ordered. Now, we could not think as he did on holy matters, and it seemed wrong to us to obey him. So we decided to go to a country where we might worship as we pleased."
"What became of that cruel king, Mistress Brewster?"
"He ruleth England now. But thou must not think too hardly of him. He doth not understand, perhaps. Right will win some day, Remember, though there may be bloody war before peace cometh. And I thank God that we, at least, shall not be called on to live in the midst of the strife," she went on, speaking more to herself than to the little girl.
"We decided to go to Holland, out of the reach of the king. We were not sure whether it was best to move or not, but our hearts were set on God's ways. We trusted Him in whom we believed. Yes," she went on, "and shall we not keep on trusting Him?"
And Rose Standish, remembering the little stock of food that was nearly gone, the disease that had come upon many of their number, and the five who had died that month, answered firmly: "Yes. He who has led us thus far will not leave us now."
They were all silent a few seconds. Presently Remember said: "Then did ye go to Holland, Mistress Brewster?"
"Yes," she said. "Our people all went over to Holland, where the Dutch folk live and the little Dutch children clatter about with their wooden shoes. There thou wast born, Remember, and my own children, and there we lived in love and peace."
"And yet, we were not wholly happy. We could not talk well with the Dutch, and so we could not set right what was wrong among them. 'Twas so hard to earn money that many had to go back to England. And worst of all, Remember, we were afraid that you and little Bartholomew and Mary and Love and Wrestling and all the rest would not grow to be good girls and boys. And so we have come to this new country to teach our children to be pure and noble."
After another silence Remember spoke again: "I thank thee, Mistress Brewster. And I will try to be a good girl. But thou didst not tell me about Christmas after all."
"Nay, child, but now I will. There are long services on that day in every church where the king's friends go. But there are parts of these services which we cannot approve; and so we think it best not to follow the other customs that the king's friends observe on Christmas.
"They trim their houses with mistletoe and holly so that everything looks gay and cheerful. Their other name for the Christmas time is the Yuletide, and the big log that is burned then is called the Yule log. The children like to sit around the hearth in front of the great, blazing Yule log, and listen to stories of long, long ago.
"At Christmas there are great feasts in England, too. No one is allowed to go hungry, for the rich people on the day always send meat and cakes to the poor folk round about.
"But we like to make all our days Christmas days, Remember. We try never to forget God's gifts to us, and they remind us always to be good to other people."
"And the Christmas carols, Mistress Standish? What are they?"
"On Christmas Eve and early on Christmas morning," Rose Standish answered, "little children go about from house to house, singing Christmas songs. 'Tis what I like best in all the Christmas cheer. And I promised to sing thee one, did I not?"
Then Mistress Standish sang in her dear, sweet voice the quaint old English words:
"As Joseph was a-walking, He heard an angel sing:
"This night shall be the birth-time Of Christ, the heavenly King.
"He neither shall be born In housen nor in hall,
Nor in the place of Paradise, But in an ox's stall.
"He neither shall be clothed In purple nor in pall,
But in the fair white linen That usen babies all.
"He neither shall be rocked In silver nor in gold,
But in a wooden manger That resteth in the mould."
As Joseph was a-walking There did an angel sing,
And Mary's child at midnight Was born to be our King.
Then be ye glad, good people, This night of all the year,
And light ye up your candles, For His star it shineth clear."
Before the song was over, Hannah had come on deck again, and was listening eagerly. "I thank thee, Mistress Standish," she said, the tears filling her blue eyes. "'Tis long, indeed, since I have heard that song."
"Would it be wrong for me to learn to sing those words, Mistress Standish?" gently questioned the little girl.
"Nay, Remember, I trow not. The song shall be thy Christmas gift."
Then Mistress Standish taught the little girl one verse after another of the sweet old carol, and it was not long before Remember could say it all.
The next day was dull and cold, and on Monday, the twenty-fifth, the sky was still overcast. There was no bright Yule log in the Mayflower, and no holly trimmed the little cabin.
The Pilgrims were true to the faith they loved. They held no special service. They made no gifts.
Instead, they went again to the work of cutting the trees, and no one murmured at his hard lot.
"We went on shore," one man wrote in his diary, "some to fell timber, some to saw, some to rive, and some to carry; so no man rested all that day."
As for little Remember, she spent the day on board the Mayflower. She heard no one speak of England or sigh for the English home across the sea. But she did not forget Mistress Brewster's story; and more than once that day, as she was playing by herself, she fancied that she was in front of some English home, helping the English children sing their Christmas songs. And both Mistress Allerton and Mistress Standish, whom God was soon to call away from their earthly home, felt happier and stronger as they heard the little girl singing:
"He neither shall be born In housen nor in hall,
Nor in the place of Paradise, But in an ox's stall."
Here in the United States, we have several holidays that don’t get the attention they deserve, and a few that get way too much attention. Now one of the holidays that is fast becoming forgotten is upon us.
For weeks we couldn’t enter a grocery store or a discount store without running head-on into a huge display of Halloween candy. Paper witches and Frankensteins were plastered on windows and hung from ceilings while pumpkins huddled together on the floor beneath the produce racks or out in front of the store.
No sooner did we get the Halloween candy out of our faces than we were bombarded with Christmas goodies—candy canes, marshmallow Santas left over from Christmases past (I worked in a grocery store, so I know), and those awful red and green cookies you could patch a hole in a roof with.
Seems to me that something’s missing.
Aside from meat freezers stocked with turkeys, and large displays of Stove Top stuffing, the only promotion I saw for Thanksgiving was a small cardboard stand filled with cartoon turkey cocktail napkins and cups...and that was hidden behind a Christmas tree.
Why does Thanksgiving get so little attention while all the emphasis is placed on Halloween and Christmas? It’s simple. Money. Halloween and Christmas are goldmines, and Thanksgiving gets the shaft.
Let’s face it, only those in the grocery business make any money off of Thanksgiving, so all the other businesses have to milk Halloween and Christmas for all they’re worth. Even most grocery stores have lost sight of the true meaning of the holiday in their quest for the almighty buck.
Just ten years ago, most grocery stores were closed on Thanksgiving so their employees could spend the day with their families, but now one would be hard-pressed to find a supermarket that’s not open for at least part of the day. If you don’t have what you need by Thanksgiving Day, then tough turkey (pun intended). I’ve always said that.
It’s easy to get caught up in the glitz of Halloween and Christmas, the true meaning of which is also fading fast in the world’s minds. They’re fun holidays, however commercial they may be, but Thanksgiving is what this country’s all about. It’s as important a national holiday as the Fourth of July. If not for Thanksgiving, there might not have been an Independence Day.
We certainly might not have the freedom to celebrate Christmas or Hanukkah, or whatever else it is you celebrate. The Pilgrims came over here 400 years ago so we could have the freedom to do these things, and on the first Thanksgiving, they thanked God for all the blessings He had bestowed upon them in the New World.
Despite the prospect of a Hillary Clinton presidency, we still live in the greatest country on the face of the planet. There should be 365 days of thanksgiving (366 in a leap year), so is it too much to ask to take just one day out to sit down and count our blessings?
When a day that’s as important as Thanksgiving gets lost in a sea of corporate greed, maybe it’s time for us to take a serious look at our lives and values. Chew on that and a mouthful of turkey the next time you get a hankering for candy corn or candy canes.
© 2007 by J.D. Lewis
By Jim Garamone
American Forces Press Service
March 12, 2007 – Iraqi army and police forces worked together to provide security for the more than 6 million pilgrims traveling to Karbala to observe the Shiite ritual of Arbaeen, officials in Baghdad said today. Anti-Iraqi forces targeted the pilgrims, and they were successful in a number of cases, most notably with a car bomb that killed more than 100 pilgrims on March 6. Iraqi Brig. Gen. Kassim Atta al-Moussawi said during a news conference in Baghdad today that, all told, insurgents killed more than 150 pilgrims.
Arbaeen marks the end of 40 days of mourning for the Imam Hussein, the Prophet Muhammad's grandson, who was killed in 680. The imam and 72 followers died at the hands of fellow Muslims who sought to prevent the imam from becoming caliph, or Muslim leader. The caliphate became the foundation of Sunni Muslim rule, and the killing of Hussein was the start of the Sunni-Shiite split. Karbala is the home of the imam's tomb and has been a site of pilgrimage since his death.
Shiite Muslims from Iraq, Iran, the Gulf States and other areas travel to Karbala and engage in ritual flagellation in remembrance of the imam. During the Saddam Hussein regime, Shiite Muslims could not mark the celebration. Iraqi and coalition officials say this year has seen the largest Arbaeen celebration in decades. The rituals ended March 10.
Kassim, speaking through an interpreter, said the volume of threats in Iraq and the volume of pilgrims made Arbaeen a potentially dangerous situation. "The enemy targets the innocent people -- children, students," he said. "This is clear evidence of the terror of these groups."
Despite Iraqi security forces' limited capabilities, the Iraqi forces did well against the security threats, Kassim said, noting the forces discovered a number of caches of arms and munitions. They also foiled a number of attacks. They cooperated well with each other and the coalition, and they built trust with the Shiite majority of Iraq, the general said.
The operation to protect Karbala involved the office of the minister of national security, the governor of Karbala governate, the Ministry of Defense and the Ministry of the Interior. "There was daily cooperation between forces in Karbala and Baghdad," Kassim said. "The great efforts ... exerted achieved good results in this plan."
This article was sponsored by police and military personnel who have written books as well as criminal justice online leadership.
Stil strung out on tryptophan, Carol and I decided to brave Black Friday -- she usually doesn't, but felt that I needed to experience this exclusively American phenomenon. As we navigated the streets at 4:30 a.m., we couldn't help but appreciate the total absurdity of our actions, and of North American culture and values in general -- as Carol pointed out, people who wouldn't dream of getting up at 4 a.m. for say, work, will happily do so for the privilege of lining up outside Wal-Mart in the freezing cold, sustained by visions of discount laptops. I have to say, though, that I was almost disappointed when Black Friday, at least in Plaistow, NH, barely qualified as grey. No thronging hordes, no fist fights, no riots -- just 50 patient, polite shoppers queuing at Kohl's. After all I'd heard of the Black Friday legend, I was counting on bringing many a spine-chilling tale back to Canada. Humph.
But at least I scored a few bargains, including the 2006 Bad Cat Page-a-Day Calendar as a Christmas gift for my sister. Sample image:
My adventures in America continued on Friday afternoon, when Eric and I joined six of his friends -- two couples and two younger brothers of one in our ranks -- and flew to Kansas City -- the "city of fountains," apparently -- to catch a Chiefs/Patriots game. Apparently, it's pretty much impossible to wrangle tickets to see the New England Patriots actually play in New England, so Eric and company make a point of attending an away game every year. This time round they decided on KC, and kindly agreed to include me despite my inherent Canadian-ness.
Our first discovery was that nobody lives in Kansas City, at least on the weekends -- we saw nary a living soul in the streets or in our hotel, and soon learned there was no point in checking for traffic when crossing the street. We discovered that shops and restaurants, at least in the financial district, close on Saturday and Sunday. We began to suspect that the city was inhabited by zombies, who would rise in the night and feast on our pure Northern blood (do zombies feast on blood? Whatever). At the very least it gives us a hep, cryptic new line to pull out in any dull situation/event/location: "This is so KC."
On Saturday several in our group went out for a run, and still saw no sign of human life, though we did get to take in some sights. Here, Yolanda and I impose ourselves on a perfectly good view (photo by Chris):
Later in the morning we explored the city in more depth and discovered two things -- the wonders of Kansas City barbecue, and the whereabouts of the living. The first resulted from a trip to Arthur Bryant's. apparently a famed Midwestern institution. Like the soup nazi of Seinfeldian fame, the Arthur Bryant's staff could be aptly described as meat nazis -- surly, militant and generally unpleasant. The food was a whole other story -- the high point being Eric's "meat tray," which was literally two piles of sliced pork and beef dumped directly on an orange cafeteria tray. My "short end sandwich" consisted of a half rack of ribs dumped on top of two pieces of Wonder Bread. Still, everyone -- even non-meathounds like myself -- agreed that the grub lived up to its stellar reputation. Here we are chowing down:
(photo by Yolanda)
I suspect the Kansas City Vegetarian is an endangered species.
Later in the day we drove out to the 'burbs for tailgating supplies and discovered what happened to the people of Kansas City -- every last one of them was swallowed up by Wal-Mart. We found ourselves in row upon row of bustling strip malls, sprawling beyond the horizon in a dizzying display of American consumerism. While we came seeking charcoal and meat, the strip mall city gave us an unexpected gift -- the gift of frozen custard. This hitherto-unknown-to-us treat proved a trip highlight.
Chris sucks back a custard-shake -- photo by Yolanda
In the evening we met up with a former roommate of mine who now, oddly enough, lives in Missouri (I guess it's not that odd since that's where the man she married lives, but it sounds fairly random for someone who grew up in Ontario). We would have moved mountains to see each other -- I mean, what were the chances that two Ottawa chicks would find themselves in, of all places, Missouri at the same time? We had a great visit and catch-up and I'm glad to see that she's finding happiness south of the border.
Sunday was the focal point of our trip -- game day. We kicked things off with several hours of parking lot tailgating. Here, let me show you:
(photo by Yolanda)
That's Eric and Julie rehearsing their Chiefs trash-talk routine ("So, how many Super Bowls have you won?" )
(Yolaphoto)
Still recovering from an unfortunate Black Friday shopping cart assault, Aaron dubs Spencer's chicken finger-lickin' good
(Yolanda shot)
Clustered by our small but mighty barbie (note the complete absence of anyone else in the parking lot at this point)
The rest of the gang drank beer (and Coke, in the case of our underager), but I opted for my usual fruity coolers and feel compelled to put in a plug for the new grape-flavoured Smirnoff Ice. Yum!
When we got into the stadium, we found ourselves in the nosebleeds of the nosebleeds -- still, the view wasn't bad and the weather more-or-less forgiving (aside from the occasional drizzle, lightning flash and tornado warning). The less good part? The Pats lost. Eric's "sad face" confirms it:
Here we are after the game, smiling through the pain:
(thanks, Yolanda)
I told Eric I was fully expecting a Jumbotron proposal, and that I might never recover from the disappoinment.
We flew back to NH on Monday, and I flew back to Ottawa on Tuesday. There was lots of turbulence, which always sends me into low-grade panic -- especially in an 18-seat Cracker Jack-box-prize of a plane. But I survived completely intact, and have to thank my friend Darin for gamely responding to my last-minute "It's raining and cold and I'm tired and can't face the bus" campaign for a lift home from the airport. Also special thanks to my roommate cricker81 for going above and beyond the call of cat-minding duty while I was away. I would never ask my roommates to do more than throw some food and water in the kitties' direction occasionally -- but cricker actually cleaned out an overflowing litterbox of her own volition. Who does that!? Thanks, cricker.
And oh yes, I left my winter coat in Kansas City. It was so warm all weekend -- like stepping back in time to an Ottawa September -- that I didn't even use it and forgot it in the hotel closet. The KC Downtown Marriott was incredibly helpful and as far as I know it was shipped out to me on Friday. In the meantime, sign me unfashionable and shivering in Ottawa --
aubree
William Bradford, Of Plymouth Plantation :
"They began now to gather in the small harvest they had, and to fit up their house and dwelling against winter, being all well recovered in health and strength and had all things in good plenty. For as some were thus employed in affairs abroad, others were exercised in fishing, about cod and bass and other fish, of which they took good store, of which every family had their portion. All the summer there was no want; and now began to come in store of fowl, as winter approached, of which this place did abound when they came first (but afterward decreased by degrees). And besides waterfowl there was great store of wild turkeys, of which they took many, besides venison, etc. Besides, they had about a peck of meal a week to a person, or now since harvest, Indian corn to that proportion. Which made many afterwards write so largely of their plenty here to their friends in England, which were not feigned by true reports."
The story of Thanksgiving is basically the story of the Pilgrims and their thankful community feast at Plymouth, Massachusetts.
The Pilgrims, who set sail from Plymouth, England on a ship called the Mayflower on September 6, 1620, were fortune hunters, bound for the resourceful 'New World'. The Mayflower was a small ship crowded with men, women and children, besides the sailors on board. Aboard were passengers comprising the 'separatists', who called themselves the "Saints", and others, whom the separatists called the "Strangers".
After land was sighted in November following 66 days of a lethal voyage, a meeting was held and an agreement of truce was worked out. It was called the Mayflower Compact. The agreement guaranteed equality among the members of the two groups. They merged together to be recognized as the "Pilgrims." They elected John Carver as their first governor.
Although Pilgrims had first sighted the land off Cape Cod, Massachusetts, they did not settle until they arrived at a place called Plymouth. It was Captain John Smith who named the place after the English port-city in 1614 and had already settled there for over five years. And it was there that the Pilgrims finally decided to settle. Plymouth offered an excellent harbor and plenty of resources. The local Indians were also non-hostile.
But their happiness was short-lived. Ill-equipped to face the winter on this estranged place they were ravaged thoroughly.
Somehow they were saved by a group of local Native Americans who befriended them and helped them with food. Soon the natives taught the settlers the technique to cultivate corns and grow native vegetables, and store them for hard days. By the next winter they had raised enough crops to keep them alive. The winter came and passed by without much harm. The settlers knew they had beaten the odds and it was time to celebrate.
They celebrated it with a grand community feast wherein the friendly native Americans were also invited. It was kind of a harvest feast, the Pilgrims used to have in England. The recipes entail "corn" (wheat, by the Pilgrims usage of the word), Indian corn, barley, pumpkins and peas, "fowl" (specially "waterfowl"), deer, fish. And yes, of course the yummy wild turkey.
However, the third year was real bad when the corns got damaged. Pilgrim Governor William Bradford ordered a day of fasting and prayer, and rain happened to follow soon. To celebrate - November 29th of that year was proclaimed a day of thanksgiving. This date is believed to be the real beginning of the present Thanksgiving Day.
Though the Thanksgiving Day is presently celebrated on the fourth Thursday of every November. This date was set by President Franklin D. Roosevelt in 1939 (approved by Congress in 1941). Earlier it was the last Thursday in November as was designated by the former President Abraham Lincoln. But sometimes the last Thursday would turn out to be the fifth Thursday of the month. This falls too close to the Christmas, leaving the businesses even less than a month's time to cope up with the two big festivals. Hence the change.
Isn't it a shame, that even in it's inception, there were those whose focus was on the profit to be made? hmmm Seems a tad ironic.