All of the food was laid out on the table, ready to be eaten. But no one felt hungry. All of the plates were set, but one would remain empty.

All of the other houses were filled with feasting and thankfulness, but his house seemed oddly quiet. For what was Thanksgiving without Fred, who used to fill the house with laughter and bring half serious scolding from their mother? But now the house seemed far to quiet without him. Maybe their's a Thanksgiving up in heaven with him, but the one down here seems awfully thankless.