When I was young we celebrated a traditional New England Thanksgiving at my grandparents’ house — a magical, exciting day with dozens of family members and friends, a table laden with food and drink, the special glasses and china, lots of toasts and words of gratitude, and the warmth of close connection. (And if we’re being honest, some lively grownup debates around the table, cranky kids, and the adults shooing teenagers outside to run around the house 3 times to work off their energy.) When the dishes were cleared and everyone took a breather, we would gather around the piano and sing old favorite songs — “Over the River and Through the Woods,” “Bringing in the Sheaves,” and my favorite, “Come Little Leaves.”*

The other day while walking through the woods, my Grandmother’s high voice came to me:

“Come little leaves,” said the wind one day,
“Come o’er the meadows with me and play,
Put on your dresses of red and gold,
For summer is gone and the days grow cold.”

Soon as the leaves heard the wind’s loud call,
Down they came fluttering one and all,
Over the brown fields they danced and flew,
Singing the glad little songs they knew...

…Dancing and whirling, the little leaves went,
Winter had called them, and they were content,
Soon, fast asleep in their earthly beds,
The snow laid a coverlet over their heads.”

The leaves are mostly gone from the trees here in New England, signaling it’s time for us, too, to hunker down and get ready for winter.

See you in the new year!

–lucy

*The poem by George Cooper (1840-1927) was set to music by Franco Leoni in 1903. The tunes I’ve found online sound nothing like what my Grandmother sang but maybe they sound like what you remember. xo