Matthew Burnette, Staff Writer

Somewhere in the dusty dark depths of a closet or an attic, there’s undoubtedly a stack of grade school hand turkeys that live perfectly preserved in their primary residence of a plastic tote or box.

Some haven’t seen the light of day in decades, yet some still get displayed in November despite being drawn when there was still a Bush in the White House.

The annual project often varied depending on grade-level and how close to Thanksgiving break they were being completed. Some had cut up pieces of tissue paper glued to the traced fingers to mimic the plumage of Ben Franklin’s suggestion for the national bird.

Others had the “feathers” featuring words written representing what we were thankful for or, even simpler, just colored in with various hues.

It’s actually kind of funny looking back on those hand turkeys and the colors we were given to color in the feathers. Living out in a fairly wooded area and driving down some rural roads, I’ve seen my share of wild turkeys, and I don’t recall any of the puffy-chested poultry that had blue, green or orange tail feathers.

I guess the projects wouldn’t be as fun if we’d used the browns and grays that appear in real life.

As Turkey Day quickly approaches, I find myself reflecting on those hand turkeys and what they would look like if I drew one today.

It would definitely be a much more mature bird. And to be clear, I don’t mean that it would be a more intricately designed and executed piece of art. My skills in that subject haven’t improved that much since the third grade.

No, I mean that it would be a much more full-bodied turkey with long, thick feathers and a mighty wattle. Granted, some of the feathers might be a little crooked and the size may make you question the farming practices that got it there, but I digress.

I would hope at this point in life that a lot of the words that represent what I am thankful for have changed. Video games and toys would maybe be replaced with things like a good night’s sleep and a comfy blanket. I still enjoy a nice cheeseburger, but I don’t know that it would make a feather now, and I’ve grown a lot stronger in my faith, so I know that would have a spot.

Another thing I find myself feeling thankful for is the work that I get to do on a daily basis. It’s truly a blessing to be able to write the stories that I get to write and talk to the people that I get to talk to.

That being said, eight-year-old me was an unemployed layabout who didn’t have any work to be thankful for.

(I, of course, say that in jest, and would like to emphasize that I believe there is no conceivable reason why any eight-year-old should be employed.)

But if there are two things that I can say unequivocally that both my third-grade self and my 32-year-old self would have on their Thanksgiving hand turkey, they would be family and friends.

I’ve never been the most social person, so my circle of friends tends to be a lot smaller than most people. There’s a saying that I hold tight to: “I don’t have a lot of friends, but I have the right ones.” It so accurately describes my friend group.

While I may not be the guy that walks into the room and knows and talks to every single person, I know that the group of people that I’m incredibly thankful to be able to call friends would be there in a heartbeat to lend a hand or listen, and I hope I’ve conveyed properly to them that I would reciprocally do the same.

Interestingly enough, I would argue that my family is somewhat smaller than other people’s. At least in terms of close family.

Obviously, there’s probably a multitude of fourth and fifth cousins somewhere that are genetically linked, but as far as family members that I actually hear from on a regular basis, that number is kind of small.

Both Thanksgiving dinners that we attend have at the most 13 or 14 people, and as far as other relatives that we exchange nice messages with, I’d say total there’s about 50 of us, give or take.

Luckily, the people I’m related to are very adept at making a room of a few feel like it’s one of many. They’re boisterous, goofy, loud and at times a little obnoxious, but I wouldn’t trade them for anything.

There have been seasons where one or two might decide to take a break from the group for various reasons, but we always seem to find our way back to each other for a lively holiday celebration or family get together, and I’m incredibly thankful that that’s always been the case.

Hopefully we’re past the time in our life where we need to sit down and trace our hand in order to find things to be thankful for, but it’s actually not a bad exercise and may even leave you wishing that you were born with a few extra fingers.

The argument has been made that we shouldn’t have to have a dedicated day to focusing on what we’re thankful for. We should be thankful every day for the blessings that we have and not just on a Thursday in November.

Though I agree with the sentiment of year-long thankfulness, I feel like dedicating a day to thinking about the people and things that we’re grateful for is a helpful way to realign and realize those special joys that get us through the day to day.

Here’s to a joyful and happy Thanksgiving.

May your tables be a cornucopia of blessings surrounded by those who you’re most thankful for, and may your walls be lined with a herd of hand turkeys of varying ages with feathers so full they barely fit on the page.

Just don’t forget to blow the dust off first.