Weeks before Thanksgiving arrived, my anxiety about it increased. My husband and I recently made a cross­country move with our young child Jill. Our neighbor was an old couple, Mr. Smith and Mrs. Smith, who were kind and friendly.

Our new home was in a mess. “We should start thinking about plans for Thanksgiving,” I suggested. “Don’t worry about it,” my husband said. “Heat up some hot dogs, maybe some cheese, and the kid will be happy.” That sounded great. I was in a relief!   

In the past holidays, I had never been responsible for cooking a full Thanksgiving dinner. My job was always to bring drinks or a side dish to a large gathering (items that had the highest success rate) and help clean up after the meal.

But one day my son Jill happily showed newly­created turkey crafts. “Let’s go on a walk and try to find a rock that looks like turkey!” Jill shouted to me. “Take me on a walk, Mommy!” The excitement was building, and I had a feeling that hot dogs were not going to be enough for my child on Thanksgiving.

“I’m going to try and prepare Thanksgiving food, Leonard,” I said to my husband late one night. He eyed me curiously. “You sure?” Then he said. “Okay, then, if you think you can do it.” I said. “I’ve got two days to prepare. The grocery store is open twenty­four hours. I’m going to the store!”

Unfortunately, only a huge turkey remained, so I had no choice but to buy a thirty­pound turkey. Early Thanksgiving morning, I dragged(拖拽) the bagged turkey home. When my family saw it, they got a big surprise at its size. Seeing the surprise on their faces, I realized there was no way we could finish the turkey. It’s too big for my family. “There was only one turkey left in the store.” I explained. “But how could we finish the turkey?” I asked my husband and Jill.

Jill said we could invite our neighbor, Mr. and Mrs. Smith, to share with us.

Soon, Mr. and Mrs. Smith came to my house with a big smile on their faces.