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The following rhyme is in consideration of the countless worldwide for whom there is/was naught to be thankful on our Thanksgiving Day—nor any other day, for that matter … GRACE ... Pass me the holiday turkey, peas / and the delicious stuffing flanked / by buttered potatoes with gravy / since I’ve said grace with plenty ease / for the good food received I’ve thanked / my Maker who’s found me worthy. / It seems that unlike the many of those / in the unlucky Third World nation / I’ve been found by God deserving / to not have to endure the awful woes / and the stomach wrenching starvation / suffered by them with no dinner serving. / Therefore hand over to me the corn / the cranberry sauce, fresh baked bread / since for my grub I’ve praised the Lord / yet I need not hear about those born / whose meal I’ve been granted instead / as they receive naught of the grand hoard. (Frank Sterle Jr.)

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