The year has turned its circle,
The seasons come and go.
The harvest all is gathered in
And chilly north winds blow.
Orchards have shared their treasures,
The fields, their yellow grain,
So open wide the doorway~
Thanksgiving comes again!
~Old Rhyme
We set the
table for loved ones beyond the veil, giving thanks for all they've done for us;
for without their aid, their love and care, we would not be where we are today.
