Now that families have enjoyed a Thanksgiving dinner, each having its own customs and traditions, I am reminded that my grandmother used to bake a particular kind of cookie every year during the holidays. She shared them with neighbors, took them to the sick, and always brought them to a Methodist Church gathering or meal.

Mama Whitehead was well known for her legendary raisin filling cookies. Perhaps you would like to have her recipe and see for yourself what a delectable treat they are. These are Mamma Whitehead’s instructions written on her own personalized stationary and in her own hand.

MAMMA WHITEHEAD’S RAISIN FILLING COOKIES

Filling: 1 cup raisins run through food chopper, ¾ cup sugar, 1 tablespoon flour, 1 cup boiling water. Mix flour and sugar, add to raisins, then add water and cook until thick. Best cooked the day before and stored in refrigerator.

Cookie Dough: 1 cup sugar, ½ cup butter, ½ cup sweet milk, 2 eggs, 3 teaspoons baking powder, 4 cups flour, or enough to make a soft dough so as not to stick to the rolling pin. Roll out dough very thin, sprinkle with sugar, and cut out in circles. Put filling on one piece, place another on top and press edges together. Bake in a moderately hot oven.

Just recently I toured Sunshine School with its director, Pat Bryson. The pre-school children were performing a Thanksgiving Day play dressed as pilgrims and Indians. Several days prior to the play, the children were asked to tell in their own words their understanding of “how to cook a turkey.”

As you might imagine, their concepts of the culinary art were hilarious.

Jaxson Perry explained, “We don’t fix turkey, we just fix cake.” He’s my kind of cook. Braxton Pugh had a realistic concept of preparing the holiday fowl. “I don’t cook turkey. My mom cooks my turkey.” Sawyer Hensley had a unique idea for preparing his Thanksgiving repast. “Put feathers on it. You put leaves on its head and then put it on the stove and then you eat ham.”

Cole Cornett seemed to aspire to emulate the pilgrims’ Thanksgiving. “First, we have to shoot it. Then you bring it inside. We cut off the feathers and then we put it on plates.”

It seems that there are some budding chefs enrolled in the Sunshine School. Mrs. Bryson and her staff are doing a marvelous job working with all of these three- and four-year-old students.

In addition to attending the children’s delightful play, I was invited to share Thanksgiving dinner with two of my dearest friends and their families. The Bill and Ann McFarland family has grown so large, they had their meal in the beautiful newly renovated Loyall Methodist Church dining hall.

I was most fortunate to enjoy a second Thanksgiving dinner with longtime friends Darrell and Rose Cohelia and their family. You won’t believe this, but I didn’t overeat. However, I must admit after the scrumptious meal, I drank three cappuccinos sitting in front of a bonfire in their yard on Ivy Hill. There I saw posted above their fall decorations a series of couplets which I would like to share with you. The author is not known and the poem has no title.

“Count your blessings instead of your crosses; count your gains instead of your losses. Count your joys instead of your woes; count your friends instead of your foes. Count your smiles instead of your tears; count your courage instead of your fears. Count your full years instead of your lean; count your kind deeds instead of your mean. Count your health instead of your wealth; count on God instead of yourself.”