Monday, November 28, 2005

A TOOTHPICK



What is that in my tooth? I can’t seem to shake it loose. It must be a piece of turkey left over from my dinner, not making me thinner, but I do feel like a winner. It is driving me crazy. I’ve gotta get it out. I need a toothpick. I need a toothpick. I need a toothpick. I need a toothpick. Does anyone have a toothpick?

“Son, calm down, I have a toothpick.”

Thanks Dad! But don’t you think it’s kinda sad
That in America with everything we have
Thanksgiving becomes and hums along with a brief once-a-year recognition
Like an ignition that we start up and turn off as soon as we warm up
To the idea that we have been blessed and no sooner do we forget
About those 799 million that go to bed hungry, every night, every night
Every night, we lose sight of the reality that we have the privilege to sit down at a table. Because I’m able, my family’s stable, I even get to sit beside Aunt Mabel.
Who’s been praying for me since I was a little kid, despite the things I did.

Well, dinner’s over and I’m full from my meal
So sit back, don’t relax, let me take a moment to reveal
The symbol of American comfort is a small wooden toothpick
Please pay attention my intention is for this to stick.

While we use a toothpick to remove excess food from between our teeth
Take some time this thanksgiving to help the person living under life’s table who’s willing to pick up what’s left beneath.

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