Seven dusty men rode toward
The town they knew so well
They decided not to go right in,
But to sit and rest a spell.
The youngest one began to speak,
And they wondered what he would say.
They figured he’d want to go to town,
For it was the night of Thanksgiving Day.
To their relief, JD just smiled,
One question asked , no more;
He wanted each to share the thing
He was most thankful for.
“I’m thankful for the Ma I had,”
said the man they called the Kid.
“Though I miss her and always will,
I’m real grateful for all she did.”
“JD, I have to say the same,”
Came Nathan’s voice, soft and true.
“My Ma was the best and that’s a fact.
So I’ve gotta agree with you.”
Ol’ Buck took his turn next
And trying to ease the mood,
Said, “I’m thankful for these 3 things:
Good women, good cards, good food!”
The others chuckled; the preacher spoke,
“Hmmm…most thankful for, you say?
Guess it’d have to be those crows
Letting me live another day!”
Brushing dust from his fine red coat,
Ezra smiled and said,
“Well, I’m grateful to be almost home
To fine whiskey and my feather bed!”
The two remaining didn’t speak,
For awhile no one thought they would,
The Man in Black cleared his throat,
And then he slowly stood.
“Thankful? Well, all you’ve said
Is true for me as well.
I reckon those are things all men
Can give thanks for, truth to tell.”
The tracker looked at each man there,
And finally his voice was heard.
The others looked and listened,
Not wanting to miss a word.
“Well, if I had to choose one thing
That I’m thankful for,” he said,
“I reckon it would have to be
This bounty laid upon my head.”
The men sat silent, some surprised,
Some cursing that hand of fate,
But knowing he’d have more to say,
And it’d be worth the wait.
The Texan gave a familiar nod,
Showed his friends that little grin.
And told them in his quiet way
What the bounty meant to him.
“I never stayed in one place long,
Didn’t have no desire to.
But that bounty led me to this place,
Where I met up with all of you.
My ma, she used to tell me,
Things happen for a reason.
Though we may not understand it,
Everything has its season.
I reckon if we’re giving thanks,
Not much else can compare
With having friends to watch my back
And who trust me to watch theirs.”
The others nodded, eyes were bright,
This Thanksgiving they’d recall
For each knew that this quiet man
Had spoken the truth for all.
Seven arms stretched out just then.
Brothers, not by blood but heart,
Their hands grasped one upon the next
No one could make them part.
Chris gave a grin and said,
“Let’s ride!”To town they’d find their way
And in their hearts they’d keep this gift
This special Thanksgiving Day.