The Invisible Girls by Sarah Thebarge

Author:Sarah Thebarge
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: FaithWords
Published: 2013-04-16T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Forty-Five

TWO MONTHS AFTER I met the Somali family, the older girls came home from school and told me they’d started learning about the American holiday Thanksgiving at school, and asked me to tell them more about it.

The first explanation I thought of—that every year Americans kill 45 million turkeys to celebrate that half of the Pilgrims who came to America didn’t die during the first winter—sounded ridiculous. So instead of trying to explain it further, I said, “How would you like to celebrate Thanksgiving with me this year?” They were ecstatic.

Every time I went over to their apartment in the weeks leading up to Thanksgiving, they’d race to get their coats and shoes, yelling, “We go to your house today?”

Every time I’d shake my head and say, “Nope, not today.”

On the morning of Thanksgiving, my housemate Betsy and I drove over to their apartment to pick them up—we needed two cars to transport the six of them. When we knocked on the door, the girls all came running. Hadhi opened the door and motioned for us to come inside. I held my arms out and called, “Who wants to go to my house today?” They screamed and clambered to get their shoes on.

I brought a bag filled with hats and mittens, and once they had their shoes and coats on, I handed out the items—partly because I thought they might like the thought of getting “dressed up” to come to my place, and partly because they didn’t own any winter gear.

We piled into the two cars and drove to my town house. My other housemate, Karrie, had made the turkey, and when Betsy and the family and I got home, a bounty of turkey, stuffing, sweet potatoes, green beans, and bread was waiting for us.

We made each person a plate, then sat together in a circle on a blanket in the living room. We gave a quick thanks for the food and for each of them, and then started eating. Just like the night we ate pasta, the girls tried using forks for a few minutes, and then gave up and used their right hands instead.

Some of the girls ate the new food without question, but Lelo was skeptical. She kept holding up each piece of food and asking, “I can eat this?”

I nodded at each morsel and said, “Yes, it’s okay to eat that.”

Then she’d hold up the next piece. “I can eat this?”

Chaki ate well until she caught a glimpse of ice cream in the freezer when I reached in to get some ice cubes. For the rest of the meal, whenever I encouraged her to eat, she looked at me hopefully and raised her eyebrows. “Ice cream?” she asked over and over. “I eat your ice cream?”

When everyone had finished eating, we cleared away the dishes. My friend Karina and her husband, Dan, came over with their two towheaded, blue-eyed little boys, who were three and six. We all ate dessert together, sitting in a big circle on the living room floor.

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