Last year we flew to Philadelphia to
visit family. It was our first visit to the City of Brotherly Love, and we just
happened to choose their coldest Thanksgiving ever. Being from northern climes,
we knew how to dress for our typical get-around-town-in-the-car routine. But
that didn’t prepare us for the ‘big city’ and having to walk 10-30 min.
everywhere because parking is next to impossible. Brr.
We enjoyed the obligatory Philly
Cheesesteak, visited the Liberty Bell, saw Ben Franklin’s grave, toured the
fascinating Philadelphia Mint (amazing how they make coins), and learned how to
use the commuter trains. Having visited London and ridden the Tube, this was
pretty familiar territory. So was the basic drab, utilitarian nature of most
stations and cars.
After a fantastic Thanksgiving dinner
(which I didn’t have to make—yay!), we decided to spend Black Friday not
shopping but seeing the Christmas offerings downtown. So we trudged 10 min.
through the coldest morning of our stay, boarded the drab commuter train, and rode
to see the Christmas Village, the Comcast show, and the Macy’s Dickens Village,
stopping for supper at Reading Market. Exhausted by our full day out in the
cold and wind, we trudged once more to the train station where we encountered…Thanksgiving
Magic.
The drab, utilitarian train we’d
ridden earlier that day had been transformed into a gift-wrapped wonder. We
rode home in thankfulness for those who’d performed this magic.
(This post was originally posted at The Wild Rose Press Blog on Nov. 23.)
