So, last Thanksgiving, Val Kilmer bought me a turkey.  This year he did not, thank God Not that it wasn’t a great turkey, and not that I didn’t enjoy eating it, but I just felt there were others whose need was so much greater than my own. So it was that whole joy-mixed-with-guilt-thing that I don’t deal with all too well.

Mr. K, however, got a lot of un-deserved grief for his trouble, from closed minded individuals who said things like “well, he only did that because he’s running for governor.”

Well, here it is T-day again, and I’m pretty sure he’s not running for governor, and yet my conference room is full of turkeys. And stuffing. And rolls. And potatoes. And onions. And pies. And…

Well you get the idea.

Mr. K bought complete Thanksgiving meals for 25 of our most needy families. More correctly, he bought 25 complete Thanksgiving meals for the clinic’s 25 most needy. I’m betting a few church parish halls and community centers are full of boxes of food and rows of turkeys too.

Between patients I slipped back to the conference room to check out this year’s boxes, and while I was there a woman and the cutest little rag-a-muffin you’ve ever seen came in. I wanted to photograph her, but for one-million-and-one legal reasons I could not, would not, did not. So I will paint you a picture of her with words instead.

She’s small in height, in bone structure, and in muscle mass. She’s probably six or seven years old, but looks four or five. Not having enough food most of the year will do that to you. Yes, we are in the U.S.A., and yes, I see this every day. She’s not fully malnourished--but she’s a skinny little thing--the wind would probably blow her down the highway like a tumble weed.

Her clothes are dirty and torn, her hair is long and tangled, her shoes are too big, and her face really needs washing. She does not have a jacket. But the ear-to-ear smile on her face and the joy in her eyes when she sees the boxes of food are perfect.

                                                                            Thanks from the clinic. Thanks from the people of our villages.

                                                                            And thanks from a dirty little rag-a-muffin with the perfect smile.