Don’t Eat Me

I still don’t like Thanksgiving. It’s nothing about the turkey, the cranberry sauce or the pumpkin pie. It’s about what it represents. Four years ago it was the last time cancer was something that happened to older people or to someone else. The next day Elena was diagnosed.

 
So in celebration of Thanksgiving I thought it best to forget about cancer and share with you a letter Gracie wrote for her class as a “turkey” pleading for reprieve. It was exactly what we needed this Thanksgiving and for that we give thanks.
 

“St. Goble School for the Gobleless
165 Cherry Gobel Drive

Dear Cooks or Cooks of Turkeys,
 

Don’t eat me!!!! I ate a piece of elephant so you better like peanut. I thought it would be amusing to eat fire – apparently not so I caught fire. I thought it would be cool if I lived where penguinslive and do what penguins do. So I slid on ice into the water (and remember this is the artic) and now I have a cold and it’s contagious. I was helping my father and it was raining bricks and I got hit with 62,796,999 bricks and all the meat got squished out of me.
 

Goble Goble Gobella”

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