The World’s Driest Turkey & Other Thankful Things

It was a perfect Thanksgiving.

The weather had been a bit nippy and rain clouds loomed, but that was to be expected in November in Oregon.

How we ended up with the world’s driest turkey?

Well, that was the cat’s fault.

 It was 1977, the year my parents moved our family to the small, out-of-the-way Oregon town of Philomath. I was in middle school, and thrilled that our extended family would be coming to visit from Portland, bringing with them my favorite cousins—my mom’s twin sister’s kids, our childhood playmates. The aunts and uncles all arrived with their versions of traditional holiday dishes, including sweet potatoes, fresh baked dinner rolls, and perfectly sculpted pies. We cousins were all smiles as we ran off to play until dinner.

As hosts for the meal, my parents were in charge of the turkey. And, just as my mom had done many times before, she cooked it up like a champ. The turkey turned out perfectly golden brown, tender, moist, and delicious—just the way we all liked it.

Over the next couple of hours, we feasted like hungry pilgrims. And we shared what each of us were thankful for. We celebrated the rest of the day, with the adults chatting for hours about their jobs, the state of the world, and raising us kids, while a televised football game hummed in the background. We cousins joked around, played board games, and eventually ended up outside with my dad (who considered himself “one of the kids”) to play capture the flag until dark. And then it was time for everyone to go home.

The mad food scramble ensued, with aunts and uncles swapping little bits of this and that for leftover meals in the coming days, so that by the time they all left, the sink was full of dirty dishes and our refrigerator was packed with food.

Then Mom remembered the turkey—the partially carved carcass loaded with meat, still sitting in the roasting pan on the stove. Having manned the kitchen all day, she was exhausted and in no mood to debone the meat and rearrange the contents of the refrigerator to make it all fit.

Then she had a plan.

The unfinished basement stayed plenty cold at night. They could store the turkey downstairs overnight and she would take care of it in the morning. So, she covered it in foil and sent my father to the basement. Upon entering, he remembered the cat—our lively, purring black and white short-hair named Poncho. He was used to roaming freely between the upstairs and the basement at night, and Dad didn’t want to lock him out without access to his litter box. He couldn’t just leave the turkey sitting in the open where the cat might get into it. So, looking around, he was hit with a brilliant idea.

Store the turkey in the clothes dryer overnight.

The old washer and dryer stood side-by-side against the basement wall. Nobody in the house had need of them before morning. The dryer would make a perfect receptacle for refrigeration.

Dad carefully placed the turkey inside the dryer and shut the door.

What could possibly go wrong?

Enter Murphy’s Law.

Sometime in the middle of the night, we were all awakened by a horrific clanking noise coming from the basement. While the rest of us sat in our beds wondering if someone was breaking into the house, my dad jumped out of bed and ran for the stairs. He knew exactly what was happening.

He hurried to the basement and stopped the spinning.

Inside, the dryer was a terrible mess. Bits and pieces of turkey and bone were everywhere. And grease coated the drum. Over the next two days, Dad worked to clean it all up, having to take the dryer apart in order to give it the thorough cleaning necessary to be used for clothes again.

My parents were never quite sure why the dryer spontaneously turned itself on in the middle of the night. Perhaps the cat had bumped the knob and pushed the button? Unlikely. Whether Poncho had anything to do with the dryer coming alive in the night or not, it was because of him that Dad had put the turkey in the dryer in the first place.

It was a frustrating loss, but over the years my parents looked back and laughed at their mistake, dubbing that year’s bird: The World’s Driest Turkey.

As we enter this Thanksgiving season, I am reminded of the value of being thankful. With so much negativism in the world, an attitude of gratitude can create a contentedness that allows our hearts to be at peace, even when the world seems scary, upside down, out of control. It is good for our souls to take this day and offer thanks, recognizing that we have been given much, and we can thank God for the blessings He lavishes on us all year long.

Last week, my grandchildren were given an elementary school assignment to make a collage of the things they are grateful for and then share it with the class. They scoured magazines and cut out pictures, gluing them to their picture board. My granddaughter’s list included God, family, and Oreos. High on my grandson’s list: crocodiles.

We all have things that make our hearts sing.

It is fairly easy to be thankful for the warm plate of food on the table in front of us—for food in abundance, a heated house, a cozy bed, family, friends, good health, freedom.

But what about crocodiles?

The hardships lurking just beneath the surface?

Can we be thankful in the midst of life’s difficulties?

The Bible calls us to do just that. “Give thanks in all circumstances for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.” (I Thes. 5:18) I can’t say that my parents ever thanked God that the turkey went for a spin in the dryer (although they may have). But they did teach me to be thankful even when things do not go as I think they should. We will experience trouble in this world, but we can always find ways to be thankful. Years later, we could still look back at that Thanksgiving as a wonderful time together. We could still be thankful that we had so much food that our refrigerator couldn’t contain it all. We could also be thankful that we had a working washer and dryer. (Haunted, perhaps, but working!)

Still, being thankful in all circumstance means more than just finding the silver lining in a given situation. It is being grateful even for the trials, the hardships, and the pain, because it is during these times that we learn, and grow, and trust more deeply in the God who sustains us.

One of my favorite sections of Scripture for Thanksgiving is this:

“Though the fig tree does not bud and there are no grapes on the vines, though the olive crop fails and the fields produce no food, and there are no sheep in the pen, and cattle in the stalls, yet, I will rejoice in the Lord, I will be joyful in God my Savior.” (Hab. 3:17-18)

God never guaranteed us a life of ease, but He does promise His presence when we walk through dark valleys.

For all of these things we can be thankful.

Jen♡