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There was once a family, the Capra family, which invited a sheep to Thanksgiving dinner. The sheep actually came as a guest of one of the family members. Inviting the sheep was the brainstorm of one of the family members during an after-dinner meal, no one clearly remembered exactly who. They all just knew that it seemed right to invite the sheep to such a grand occasion as a Thanksgiving feast.
No one knew a sheep or even where to get one, but as the appointed day drew closer they all began to ask around. Finally a sheep was procured by the oldest son of the Capra family, who extended the invitation to the sheep and agreed to go and get it. Everyone felt a certain sense of pride at their ingenious idea.
The morning of Thanksgiving came and the whole house was bustling with preparations. The turkey was basting in the oven, which not only filled the house with delicious and mouth-watering aromas, it gave off a warm and cozy heat. The other items on the menu were also being prepared in the large kitchen. Yams were being mashed and mixed with butter and brown sugar. Dressing was being seasoned and mixed in deep pans. All manner of vegetables—green beans, corn, squash, zucchini, potatoes—were simmering in pots and crock pots. Rice dishes and vegetable casseroles and puddings had been brought to the kitchen by family members and they sat warming on the stove, steaming quietly. Their fragrance mixed with the other smells to create an aroma worthy of heaven. Pies and cakes of all kinds and sizes lined the sideboard, seemingly straining to be cut into slices and devoured. Each family member that was not involved directly in readying the meal sat in the large living room and talked and laughed and joked.
Soon the eldest son arrived with the sheep. He came in with it through the front door and announced that the guest of honor had arrived. The sheep stared stupidly at the family as they crowded around and filed by to offer a pat on the head or a stroke of affection down its back. Many compliments were delivered and the talk turned to how great a family they must be to have come up with such a unique way to celebrate Thanksgiving.
The eldest son led the sheep into the kitchen to meet the cooks, who stopped and wiped hands on aprons and towels and fawned over the sheep. The sheep baa-ed politely yet unemotionally.
Finally the call came to gather around the dinner table. Family members idled into the dining room still carrying on conversations, but when they saw the feast they were overwhelmed. The cooks blushed in humble pride and tried to hurry everyone to be seated before things began to get cold. The sheep was propped up at the middle of the table. A hush fell for the traditional blessing of the food. Grandfather Capra rose solemnly from the table and bowed his head. All the family members did the same. The children cast sidelong giggles and snickers at the sheep, who did not return eye contact. Grandfather Capra began a stern, rehearsed prayer, and paused at the end to return thanks for the presence of the sheep. A few family members uttered a muffled amen, and finally Grandfather drew his ceremonial prayer to a close.
Then the real feasting began. Napkins were tucked into laps and collars, cooks jumped up for last minute forgotten spoons and ladles, and a slow-moving train of dishes began to be passed along to each member of the family.
As each dish was passed it eventually came by the sheep. At first the cousin on the left of the sheep would ask if the sheep wanted some of each dish.
“Would you like some squash?” The sheep made no reply, no response at all. After two or three dishes came by the cousin shortened his invitation to single words: “Turkey?” “Potatoes?” finally the dishes were just passed over the sheep to the next family member, who had never stopped an ongoing discussion with the person on his right about the technical aspects of his favorite college team’s defense in the upcoming championship game.
Eventually the dishes stopped coming around and the family members tucked into what would be remembered as the best meal they had ever eaten together. Such camaraderie and fellowship! What delicious food! How they ate and ate! The sheep sat stupidly through the entire meal, not even giving the smallest bleat.
Soon the dishes and containers were cleared and coffee was served along with the cakes and pies. The sheep stared into space as the desserts were passed by him after only the briefest of pauses. Most everyone had seconds and slurped steaming cups of dark coffee.
Finally the eating slowed to a halt. Seats were pushed back and the conversations died down, trickling to a halt as well. Heads began to nod, and soon the entire table had fallen asleep under the influence of a massive attack of carbohydrates and tryptophan. Grandfather was asleep with his head tilted back. Most everyone else’s head had lolled helplessly to the side, or in the case of two of the teen cousins, right into their plate.
There was a gentle tap on the front door. The sheep turned his head out of curiosity and looked over as the Shepherd opened the door and entered quietly. The sheep bleated softly in recognition. The Shepherd put his fingers to his lips and padded over to the table. Stealing quietly into the room among the dozing family members, the Shepherd made his way over to the sheep and scooped him up happily into his arms. The sheep nuzzled the Shepherd’s chin, and the Shepherd embraced his charge gently. The Shepherd then turned to the door, snagging a piece of pecan pie on the way out. The door closed quietly behind him.
Grandfather Capra began to snore, which awakened Grandmother Capra and her sister. They roused slowly from their deep sleep and elbowed each other, nodding to dishes. They began to clear the table, and the removal of dishes soon awakened the others out of their nap. They stretched and yawned, some asking if there was any pie left or cake. The table was soon cleared and the Capra family had gathered once again in the living room. The level of the conversation rose until, as the sun went down, they one by one got in their cars and drove home.
No one missed the sheep or thought of him again, or if they did, they merely remarked to themselves how out of place a sheep must have been in such circumstances. And anyway, the family meal was a tradition for the family, not sheep. It might not even be fair to the sheep to invite him back, and that maybe next year they should not think of anyone but their own family.
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