The heavenly lake glinted with shimmering water as flying fish dove in and out. A couple sat by the lakeside, their names were John and Shirly Murry (my grandpa and grandma). As they thought about heavenly things, John noticed a bird sitting by the lakeside a way down. It had a thick strong body, a tail of bountifully colorful feathers, and a beak like gold. It sat looking around at the fish jumping in the lake and nibbling on a vibrant fruit.

   Then a voice as soft as silk, yet mighty as thunder spoke from behind them, “Happy Thanksgiving, John and Shirly.”

   Recognizing the voice, John and Shirly turned to see their friend and king standing behind them.

   “Hello Jesus, is it that time of year again?” asked John, amazed at how fast Heavenly time went by.

   “Yes, may I sit with you?” Jesus asked with his usual kindness.

   “Please.” John replied after a confirming glance from Shirly.

   “You’re reminded of something by my bird?” Jesus asked John, knowing his thoughts.

   John was reminded of something, what was it, was it called a turkey?

   “Yes, its dose resembles a turkey,” Jesus said, again knowing his thoughts.

   “I remember the Christmas feasts that our family used to have,” John recalled, “the ones up here are so much grander though.”

   And they were, freshly picked fruits of every know kind and thousands of unknown kinds made regular appearances in the dining hall. Other delights also were seen such as, well I couldn’t very much describe them could I. Except maybe for the freshly picked bacon off the bacon trees, juicier and thicker than any bacon on earth.

   “There is a feast going at my Father’s table now,” Jesus explained. “Would you like to come with me?”

   “Our pleasure!” John said, a glance form Shirly not necessary.

   The three of them spread their wings and sored off like eagles in the direction of the dining hall. The “turkey” fallowing behind, hoping for table scraps.