Regier Thanksgiving

We had Regier Thanksgiving today.

Gathered around the tables we sang, "Thank the Lord With Bounteous Measure" as we always do.

I learned that song before we were married. It was a favorite of Chuck's Grosspa Regier. It has been sung at many of the weddings in my generation. We sang it at ours, I know.

Someone has made copies of the song to place on the tables for any who may not have learned the words.

Thank the Lord with bounteous measure.

He doth fill our fruitful land.

All we own and all we treasure

is the gift of his good hand.

Thank the Lord, our life he gave us;

gives us food and fruitage rare.

Oh, who would not sing his praises,

glad his goodness to declare?

Thank the Lord, our loving Father.

Ne'er forget, O soul, his grace.

Grow more like him and his mercy.

Make thy theme of constant praise.

We sang in four part harmony, and as the last notes faded, Chuck's mom offered a grateful spoken prayer, seasoned with the tears that come so readily to her when overwhelmed by gratitude and the gathering of loved ones around her.

This song, handed down over generations, and sung year after year by this family, has meaning for us beyond its words. When we sing it, those who are missing, both from distance, and from death, are somehow singing along with us. We older ones, especially, sense this. Maybe the younger generations do too. I, who never knew this beloved grandfather, still feel even his presence and impact when we sing. 

I did not take any food pictures...never got my camera out at all this year. But there are still images within me of 

people sharing fun stories, 

laughter, 

some heart to heart talks,

 children playing, 

beautifully warm fall weather. 

After lunch some of the men put up the Christmas lights, and there was music outside, 

and we missed Chuck's dad, 

who would have loved all of it.