The day after Thanksgiving

When families split up and become mixed with the different families expect children to take part in the celebrations for holidays, ideas and change plans. Our two oldest grandchildren both beautiful girls, had to be with his father and his family on Thanksgiving Day, and with us the next day. Therefore, the day after Thanksgiving, I woke up while it was still dark, poke the turkey in the oven unit, to the other side of Oklahoma City, and pick up two girls who were still half asleep. Then we went to the Christmas special sales held early in the morning the day after Thanksgiving each year.

The first agreement year, two years and a half years Macayla could only peek over the edge of some of the display tables. The stores, packaged in an excess of fluid, like a fairy land for eighteen months she and her sister, Keri.

As I put Keri in the cart at WalMart, I reminded both of the girls: "Now you do not touch anything, okay? We will find Christmas gifts for everyone."

"Mom, too?" Macayla big blue eyes turned to look at my face.

"Yes, sweetheart, Mom, too." I bent to lift Macayla put in the front part of the basket.

"No, Grandma, I want to walk."

"There are too many people. You'll get lost." I stared at the little girl next to me. "Come on, let me put in the basket."

"I pommiz I will not. I want to here." He put a hand on the edge of the basket. "Gifts go to the trash."

"Okay, but if they turn you loose, I will put in the basket. I certainly do not want to lose you." I looked at Keri, who smiled back.

"Do not be losed," he announced from his seat.

We worked our way through the crowd of people mad. I pushed the basket with one hand while holding a Macayla with the other. One hand was pressed on the metal, but his eyes shone as they searched the crowd around her. Keri pointed to it and wanted to keep the objects that we could see the windows to be infiltrated.

"Now, Keri, we can not touch things in the store unless you're going to buy them, remember?"

Her dark curls bounced as she nodded her head.

We have reached a flow of human traffic snarl. We could not go forward, back or sides. I leaned on the handle of the basket, but when I saw straightened Macayla turn to display a table next to us. His eyes just reached over the top. He was looking for a moment before a hand grabbed something and striatum, leading to the chest.

"Macayla! I told you not to touch anything, sweetheart." I took my fist clutching an object. "What have you got?"

"But Grandma, you said ..." Tears glistened on his eyelashes before she hid her face behind her long blond hair.

I bent over to tip the chin. "I said what, honey?"

"You said I can get Mom a gift." He opened his hand to reveal a pin in the shape of a cat. "Mommy loves cats Kitty."

"Mum as kittens," Keri echoed as I hugged her older sister.

"Yes, sweetheart, your mother like kitty cats." I brushed the tears from her cheeks. "All right. I did tell you that you could get your mom a gift, but from now on, please tell me first just taking something. Will you?"

The sun has a smile as he drove through the tears. "Kay".

We finished our shopping and were home for eleven years. Starting a shop at seven in the morning causes one to end pretty soon. At home, we took all our bags into the bedroom to wait until later to pack. I continued to prepare dinner as the rest of the family starting arriving. The day after Thanksgiving has become our family's Thanksgiving, a tradition that would last for almost sixteen years.

The football played on the TV screen, we wrapped gifts, and set the Christmas tree. Any decorating the girls could do, they did that day and the next. The first year, Keri has managed to put any decoration on the same branch of the tree. Then, when he turned back to take another one of his uncles put a few off and placed elsewhere. That branch was a bit 'busy, but she loved it.

"Ooooh, pretty." Keri clapped his hands and beamed at his branch china when the bright lights illuminated the tree.

How Macayla place decorations on the tree, we could hear his song, "Happy Birthday to Jesus. Happy Birthday to Jesus."

The story of that day has become a favorite family tradition of having Thanksgiving Zabel's family the day after Thanksgiving, and his departure began the Christmas season. The girls are young adults now, and a mother, the other a mother-to-be. Our traditions have changed, how their time was filled with more love, but in my heart those voices still echo: "Do not you losed ..." "But you said ... Mom likes kitty cats," " Oooo, nice ... "," Happy Birthday to Jesus ... "

Merry Christmas....