the heart of thanksgiving

Come, Ye Thankful People, Come by Henry Alford


Come, ye thankful people, Come,
Raise the Song of Harvest Home:
All is Safely Gathered in,
Ere the Winter Storm Begin;
God, our Maker, doth Provide
For our Wants to be Supplied;

Come to God's Own Temple, Come,
Raise the Song of Harvest Home.


All the World is God's own Field,
Fruit unto His Praise to Yield;
Wheat and Tares Together Sown,
Unto Joy or Sorrow Grown.


First the Blade, and then the Ear,
Then the Full Corn shall Appear;
Grant, O Harvest Lord, that We
Wholesome grain and Pure may be.


For the Lord our God Shall Come,
And shall take His Harvest Home;
From His Field shall in that Day
All Offenses Purge Away,

Give His Angels Charge at Last;
But the Fruitful Ears to Store
In His Garner Evermore.


Even so, Lord, Quickly Come,
To They Final Harvest Home;

Gather Thou Thy People in,
Free from Sorrow, Free from Sin;


There, Forever Prurified,
In Thy Presence to Abide:


Come, with all thine Angels, Come,
Raise the Glorious Harvest Home.


Amen.
~~~

These words - and the accompanying music - run deep with me.


why?  Because they got me when I was a kid.


And that makes me think of how important the role of a parent
is.  If my values are based on Church - then not now - then I
think about how it will impact our Country if children are raised
with different values  - or none at all.


but that is not what this post is about


It is about Thanksgiving and what it means to me.

~~~





although while typing this i couldn't help thinking about
'Children of the Corn.'   :-)