What is "Thanksgiving?" Is it all about time out of school and loads upon loads of foods? Oftentimes today, we take it for granted and overlook Thanksgiving, not seeing it as its true meaning and historical value. Do we all have things to be thankful for? Read along to see how Jermaine has an impact on Grant and his crew as they dig into their heaping piles of stored goodies!
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By Jessica Crews, Yulia Potts
AuthorHouseCopyright © 2016 Jessica Crews
All rights reserved.
One ant in this story was named after a young boy, Austin Slayton, whose beautiful smile tugged heavily upon my heart the first time I saw him. Austin and I met while I was in graduate school, working as a teacher's aide at an elementary school close to home. His family and I started working together outside of the classroom while I was still employed at the school and have continued to do so ever since.
One day, the students were allowed to have a guest come to school for the day, and I got to meet his "aunt." She recognized my voice and asked who my parents were. After talking for a while, I found out that she had worked with my parents approximately 17 years beforehand and remembered me throughout the difficult times that I faced growing up. The good Lord works in mysterious ways. Personally, I feel like this is why he brought such a special young boy into my life.
'Twas the eve of Thanksgiving, and Jermaine was alone. He searched for Grant, but he was already gone. Jermaine had no friends or family to care, That he hadn't a drink or a meal to prepare.
Grant with his family all chowing away, They'd started to eat but forgotten to pray. Jermaine sat alone and talked to the Lord. Fore, he'd found no food that he could afford.
The sun was beginning to set on that Thanksgiving Day. Alone and hungry, for the night he thought he'd lay. When what to his long fuzzy neck should he feel, It was little old Grant who'd brought him a peel.
The little old apple so withered but thick, He knew Jermaine should eat it so he wouldn't get sick. More ants, all toting peeling, they came, They all wondered, "Who was there to blame?"
First Grant, then Emily, then Cierra, then Pam, Next Austin, next Ryan, then Brent and Sam. To the top of his neck and the tip of his nose, They all carried food until Jermaine arose!
As shells from the ocean are pulled in with the tide, His food, too, was carried with each little ant's pride. 'Til Jermaine's big tummy they knew they had filled, They hustled and bustled with their little ant guild.
Excerpted from Thanksgiving Story by Jessica Crews, Yulia Potts. Copyright © 2016 Jessica Crews. Excerpted by permission of AuthorHouse.
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