It had been 16 years since she had been home for Thanksgiving, and this year she was going home. That's what the man was muttering as he dipped her into the warm sudsy water and began scrubbing away at 16 years accumulation of dirt and grime. She had been a wedding present to the man and woman, but the woman thought she was cheap and ugly and wouldn't allow her to grace the Thanksgiving table.
The man's grandparents had brought her to America many years ago in a huge trunk wrapped in linens and soft cotton so she wouldn't get scratched or chipped. There had never been a Thanksgiving when she didn't sit proudly in the middle of the table holding a huge, golden-brown turkey, the juices dripping gently onto her cool, smooth surface. Every year the family ohhed and ahhed over the beautiful turkey platter with her simple picture of an 1800s farm family. It was a hand-painted winter scene. Snow covered the ground. A red barn and log home sat against a backdrop of rolling hills. Family was arriving and being welcomed at the front door as a young boy ice-skated on a small pond in the background. The farmer stood in the yard beside a beautiful turkey. Soft, chestnut-brown leaves vined around the rim of the huge platter. Her colors were soft and muted giving one a feeling of comfort.
She remembered the woman's look of distain when she opened the wedding gift from the man's grandparents. She heard the woman whisper to her new husband that his grandparents were so cheap giving them something from their kitchen and that she would never use or display such an ugly platter. The man was devastated by the remarks. He took the platter from the woman's hands and lovingly rewrapped her in the layers of tissue and placed her back in the sturdy box. The man had so many fond memories of the beautiful platter and the fun the family had each Thanksgiving as the aunts, uncles and cousins gathered at his grandparents house for a day of feasting and talking and games. He often wondered how his grandmother could be so patient as he and his many cousins raced through the huge house and up and down the basement stairs shouting and hollering at one another as they raced from one game to another. He thought about his grandfather, each year, turning the carving of the turkey into a big production and then, with a big grin on his face, carefully carrying the platter to the dining room and placing her ever so gently in the middle of the linen-draped table between the glowing candles.
The man and woman moved far away from the man's family. The man would not allow the woman to throw the beautiful platter away or put her in a garage sale. He tried to get the woman to use the platter at Thanksgiving but quickly gave up when the woman grabbed the platter and threatened to slam her to the floor and destroy her. The man was bewildered by his wife's distain at such a beautiful platter so full of wonderful childhood memories. She didn't seem to have many happy childhood memories; maybe that was why she disliked his lovely platter so much.
He wrapped the platter in tissue and placed her on a top shelf in the garage out of harm's way. Over the years the tissue became dirty and began disintegrating leaving the beautiful platter exposed to all the dust and dirt. Her simple beauty soon became hidden beneath layers of dust and other unused items that had been placed on the shelf.
The platter heard the man and woman argue more and more as the years passed by, the arguments becoming more bitter followed by long periods of silence. She felt sorry for the man; his was not a happy house. There was no sound of laughing children racing through the house on holidays, or on any other day. One day the woman packed her belongings and moved away.
The warm autumn days began to turn chilly. The platter could feel the chill of winter seeping through the layers of dirt. One afternoon she heard the man dragging a ladder to the shelf where she sat. She felt his strong hands grasp her sides and carefully lift her away from the shelf. The man almost cried when he saw the thick accumulation of dust and grime that covered his beloved platter.
The man took her into the kitchen and began filling the sink with warm water as he squeezed a delicious smelling gel under the running water. He gently lowered her into the billowing suds. She felt so delighted as the warm water took away the coldness that had settled on her. The man began rubbing her with a soft cloth, wiping away the years of dust and grime. As the man moved the cloth back and forth over her surface he began reminiscing out loud, asking if she remembered this or that Thanksgiving and all the good times they had had. He told her how beautiful she was sitting so proudly in the middle of the table holding the Thanksgiving turkey and chestnut dressing.
His grandparents loved the platter because it reminded them of the farm they lived on in the old country and the good times they had when family gathered together. He loved the platter because it brought back memories of all those delicious Thanksgiving smells, but most of all, it was a symbol of family and love.
The man finished scrubbing away all the dirt and then dried her until she squeaked and sparkled. He held her to his bosom and said, "This year Grandfather is going to put the turkey on you and carry you to the dining room and place you proudly in the middle of the Thanksgiving table."
It had been sixteen years; at last, she was going home for Thanksgiving.
