Hand turkey cut-outs.

Mary had trouble with her cut-out,
her hand was too small. Her turkey did not look plump and tender like her brother's did.
She pouted for a moment.
Sitting in the kitchen with her back to the oven, the smell of pumpkin pie, cinnamon and an open can of cranberry sauce began to lick her nose,
teasing her gently. Little Mary's stomach growled, but the turkey hand project
had her undivided attention.
At only five, she understood the importance of this holiday,
how it wasn't about the food or the turkey,
but about giving thanks, knowing how to say thank you
for the things she had.
Her mommy had taught her that.
Mary reached for her brown wax crayon
"if my hand can't be as big as my brother's,
at least my turkey will be the prettiest"