Pictures

Here's a Thanksgiving Stoy for you. Enjoy!


Pictures
By Elora


Snip! Snip! Snip! Chrissy cut ferociously away at the small pile of photographs in her hand until they were in at least four or five pieces. Then, she scattered the glossy clippings all over the floor of the room. Not her room, just a room. Her room was back in her house which was in Kansas.
The girl stared glumly at the Oregon rain coming down outside her window. Chrissy missed the rolling golden fields of home. What good were pictures if she couldn’t have the real thing?
Scooping the remnants of her memories into a pile, she stood and stretched out her legs. As soon as she left the room they said was hers, a smell wafted to her nose. It made her sick. This couldn’t be Thanksgiving Day. Not here, it wasn’t right! That was only for the small, light green house in Kansas. Stomping back up the stairs, Chrissy retreated to the room to lose herself in a book.
It worked! She almost forgot that she wasn’t in Kansas. Halfway through her favorite Thanksgiving tale, she heard her mom call.
“Chrissy, come down for the Thanksgiving picture.”
Chrissy cringed. Here? Now? Where will we take it? Who will take it?
The questions flashed through her mind. There was no use in arguing, though, so she sullenly marched down the stairs. The Campbell family gathered around the small fireplace of their new home.
Chrissy sighed and admitted her feelings, “I don’t really want to do the picture this year.”
“But Chrissy,” her dad replied, shocked, “you’ve always wanted to be a part of it. Besides, it wouldn’t be Thanksgiving without it.”
Indignation welled up within her, “Yeah!” She exclaimed, “Well it’s not Thanksgiving without the old fireplace either! Or without Aunt Riana and Uncle Luke! And especially when we’re not in Kansas!”
With that, she stormed upstairs and flopped onto her mattress. Sobs shook her body. Nothing was right. She started to reach for the past pictures, but then she remembered and looked down at the last thirteen Thanksgivings in pieces on the floor. She wished she hadn’t done it, but she had.
A few minutes later her mom walked in and sat on the bed next to her.
“It’s all so different, Mom!” Chrissy moaned, “how can we celebrate Thanksgiving like this?”
“Is it really that different, Chrissy?” Her mom asked gently, “We’re still taking our picture, and we’re still making all the same foods. Most importantly, we’re still together as a family to give thanks to God.”
“But Aunt Riana and Uncle Luke won’t be here,” Chrissy argued.
“Not physically, no, but they’re with us in spirit. God’s followers are never truly apart.”
Then she looked down, “Oh, Chrissy!” She gasped, “Why did you do it?”
“I’m sorry, Ma,” she cried, “I was just so mad and I wasn’t thinking straight! I really wish I hadn’t!”
“It’s okay,” her mother said calmly, “we can try to tape them back together. But for now, let’s go back downstairs and make some new memories!”
So, they went back down to the fireplace and gathered around it. A neighbor, Mr. Henlier came and took four pictures with their old, black camera. One each for Chrissy and her brother, Jake, one for their parents and one to mail to Aunt Riana and Uncle Luke back in Kansas.
At dinner that night, they laughed and talked about their goofy memories. Like when Uncle Luke had tried to carve the turkey and ended up cutting the table. Or when Dad had been spinning Jake around and accidentally launched him out the open door and into Aunt Riana.
The night turned out to be one of Chrissy’s favorites.
Two weeks later, when the pictures were ready, she and her mom went to the corner store and bought a small picture book. In it, Chrissy put the thirteen taped-together Thanksgivings and the new one they had shared in their new home.

Keep on glowing in the dark,
Elora