Here is a very old Thanksgiving story to share with children. It
was written by Nora Archibald Smith (1859–1934) and her sister, Kate
Douglas Wiggin (1856–1923). Kate's name might sound familiar to you.
This is because she is the author of Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm.
This
story comes to us because these ladies deeply believed in early
education, and they wanted stories about America's past that adults
could easily share with children. And I am passing it on to you should
you like a free story to share at this festive holiday time.
THE FIRST THANKSGIVING DAY
Nearly
three hundred years ago, a great many of the people in England were
very unhappy because their king would not let them pray to God as they
liked. The king said they must use the same prayers that he did; and if
they would not do this, they were often thrown into prison, or perhaps
driven away from home.
"Let
us go away from this country," said the unhappy Englishmen to each
other; and so they left their homes, and went far off to a country
called Holland. It was about this time that they began to call
themselves "Pilgrims." Pilgrims, you know, are people who are always
traveling to find something they love, or to find a land where they can
be happier; and these English men and women were journeying, they said,
"from place to place, toward heaven, their dearest country."
In
Holland, the Pilgrims were quiet and happy for a while, but they were
very poor; and when the children began to grow up, they were not like
English children, but talked Dutch, like the little ones of Holland, and
some grew naughty and did not want to go to church any more.
"This
will never do," said the Pilgrim fathers and mothers; so after much
talking and thinking and writing they made up their minds to come here
to America. They hired two vessels, called the Mayflower and the
Speedwell, to take them across the sea; but the Speedwell was not a
strong ship, and the captain had to take her home again before she had
gone very far.
The
Mayflower went back, too. Part of the Speedwell's passengers were given
to her, and then she started alone across the great ocean.
There
were one hundred people on board--mothers and fathers, brothers and
sisters and little children. They were very crowded; it was cold and
uncomfortable; the sea was rough, and pitched the Mayflower about, and
they were two months sailing over the water.
The
children cried many times on the journey, and wished they had never
come on the tiresome ship that rocked them so hard, and would not let
them keep still a minute.
But
they had one pretty plaything to amuse them, for in the middle of the
great ocean a Pilgrim baby was born, and they called him "Oceanus," for
his birthplace. When the children grew so tired that they were cross and
fretful, Oceanus' mother let them come and play with him, and that
always brought smiles and happy faces back again.
At
last the Mayflower came in sight of land; but if the children had been
thinking of grass and flowers and birds, they must have been very much
disappointed, for the month was cold November, and there was nothing to
be seen but rocks and sand and hard bare ground.
Some
of the Pilgrim fathers, with brave Captain Myles Standish at their
head, went on shore to see if they could find any houses or white
people. But they only saw some wild Indians, who ran away from them, and
found some Indian huts and some corn buried in holes in the ground.
They went to and fro from the ship three times, till by and by they
found a pretty place to live, where there were "fields and little
running brooks."
Then
at last all the tired Pilgrims landed from the ship on a spot now
called Plymouth Rock, and the first house was begun on Christmas Day.
But when I tell you how sick they were and how much they suffered that
first winter, you will be very sad and sorry for them. The weather was
cold, the snow fell fast and thick, the wind was icy, and the Pilgrim
fathers had no one to help them cut down the trees and build their
church and their houses.
The
Pilgrim mothers helped all they could; but they were tired with the
long journey, and cold, and hungry too, for no one had the right kind of
food to eat, nor even enough of it.
So
first one was taken sick, and then another, till half of them were in
bed at the same time, Brave Myles Standish and the other soldiers
nursed them as well as they knew how; but before spring came half of
the people died and had gone at last to "heaven, their dearest country."
But by and by the sun shone more brightly, the snow melted, the leaves began to grow, and sweet spring had come again.
Some
friendly Indians had visited the Pilgrims during the winter, and
Captain Myles Standish, with several of his men, had returned the visit.
One
of the kind Indians was called Squanto, and he came to stay with the
Pilgrims, and showed them how to plant their corn, and their pease and
wheat and barley.
When
the summer came and the days were long and bright, the Pilgrim children
were very happy, and they thought Plymouth a lovely place indeed. All
kinds of beautiful wild flowers grew at their doors, there were
hundreds of birds and butterflies, and the great pine woods were always
cool and shady when the sun was too bright.
When
it was autumn the fathers gathered the barley and wheat and corn that
they had planted, and found that it had grown so well that they would
have quite enough for the long winter that was coming.
"Let
us thank God for it all," they said. "It is He who has made the sun
shine and the rain fall and the corn grow." So they thanked God in their
homes and in their little church; the fathers and the mothers and the
children thanked Him.
"Then,"
said the Pilgrim mothers, "let us have a great Thanksgiving party, and
invite the friendly Indians, and all rejoice together."
So
they had the first Thanksgiving party, and a grand one it was! Four men
went out shooting one whole day, and brought back so many wild ducks
and geese and great wild turkeys that there was enough for almost a
week. There was deer meat also, of course, for there were plenty of
fine deer in the forest. Then the Pilgrim mothers made the corn and
wheat into bread and cakes, and they had fish and clams from the sea
besides.
The
friendly Indians all came with their chief Massasoit. Every one came
that was invited, and more, I dare say, for there were ninety of them
altogether.
They
brought five deer with them, that they gave to the Pilgrims; and they
must have liked the party very much, for they stayed three days.
Kind
as the Indians were, you would have been very much frightened if you
had seen them; and the baby Oceanus, who was a year old then, began to
cry at first whenever they came near him.
They
were dressed in deerskins, and some of them had the furry coat of a
wild cat hanging on their arms. Their long black hair fell loose on
their shoulders, and was trimmed with feathers or fox-tails. They had
their faces painted in all kinds of strange ways, some with black
stripes as broad as your finger all up and down them. But whatever they
wore, it was their very best, and they had put it on for the
Thanksgiving party.
Each
meal, before they ate anything, the Pilgrims and the Indians thanked
God together for all his goodness. The Indians sang and danced in the
evenings, and every day they ran races and played all kinds of games
with the children.
Then
sometimes the Pilgrims with their guns, and the Indians with their bows
and arrows, would see who could shoot farthest and best. So they were
glad and merry and thankful for three whole days.
The
Pilgrim mothers and fathers had been sick and sad many times since they
landed from the Mayflower; they had worked very hard, often had not
had enough to eat, and were mournful indeed when their friends died and
left them. But now they tried to forget all this, and think only of
how good God had been to them; and so they all were happy together at
the first Thanksgiving party.
All this happened nearly three hundred years ago, and ever since that time Thanksgiving has been kept in our country.
Every
year our fathers and grandfathers and great-grandfathers have "rejoiced
together" like the Pilgrims, and have had something to be thankful for
each time.
Every
year some father has told the story of the brave Pilgrims to his little
sons and daughters, and has taught them to be very glad and proud that
the Mayflower came sailing to our country so many years ago.
- - - - - - - - - -
I found this tale long ago at Project Gutenberg. You can look it up here if you like: http://www.gutenberg.org/files/5835/5835.txt
Information on Nora Smith can be found here --http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nora_Archibald_Smith--at Wikipedia.
And one final note to say that I'd be remiss not to remark that THE FIRST THANKSGIVING DAY relates
a very simplified and squeaky-clean version of the Pilgrim adventure.
Which is to say that I'm sure there are modern historians who would
probably argue with some of the facts. I, however, think it's a
charming story to share with young children. (And with older children
who might sit in listening, you can later discuss 'the reality' of these
past events.)
Enjoy.
Pam~
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