November 2001

From our home to yours-
Deb

Have you cut the wheat in the blowing fields,
the barley, the oats and rye,
the golden corn and the pearly rice?
For the winter days are nigh.

We have reaped them all from shore to shore,
and the grain is safe on the threshing floor.

Have you gathered the berries from the vine
and the fruits from the orchard trees,
the dew and the scent from the roses and thyme
in the hive of the honey bees?

The peach and the plum and the apple are ours,
and the honeycomb from the scented flowers.
The wealth of the snowy cotton field
and the gift of the sugar cane,
the savory herb and nourishing root -
there has nothing been given in vain.
We have gathered the harvest from shore to shore,
and the measure is full and running o'er.

Then lift up your head with a song!
And lift up your hands with a gift!
To the timeless Giver of all,
The Spirit of gratitude lift!
For the joy and promise of Spring,
For the hay and the clover sweet,
The barley, the rye and the oats,
The rice and the corn and the wheat,
The cotton and sugar and fruit,
The flowers and honeycomb,
Our country, so fair and so free,
The blessing and glory of home.
Thanksgiving! Thanksgiving! Thanksgiving!
Joyfully, gratefully call to God, the preserver of life,
The bountiful Father of all.

From the 1894 Agricultural Almanac
Printed in Lancaster, Pennsylvania