I guess it really is the thought that counts!

This November 24th in the USA was a special day; families were meeting together to give thanks and to share a meal with each other, many business were closed, and turkeys across the land were mourning the deaths of their loved ones that had, in masses, been systematically killed, plucked, stuffed, and eaten (and enjoyed) by Americans gathering for the Thanksgiving holiday.

This November 24th, in France, was... a thursday.

Being an American in Paris for Thanksgiving had its benefits. For one, I didn't see a single advertisement for "Black Friday!" Also, it was fun to run into other Americans throughout the day and wish them a happy Thanksgiving—for a day it felt like we were all connected.

Still though, I was feeling pretty down, or at least  a little nostalgic, when I realized that soon all the family would be arriving at Grandma's house for Thanksgiving dinner. I didn't think it would bother me.
But it did.

One thing in particular made spending my Thanksgiving alone in Paris feel a whole lot better. It came in the mail.

It could never (of course) compare to a real Thanksgiving dinner,
but opening up this "thanksgiving" themed box—complete with turkey jerky, dried cranberries, pecan pie bars (SO good), Pumpkin cookies, apple pie flavored chewing gum, and other non-perishable versions of American traditional Thanksgiving-Y things—was like opening up a box of love.

(Awwww.)

 It was just nice to remember that there are people out there, even though they're far away, that love me so much.
So no, Ju Ju Jerky can't compare to tender turkey with stuffing and gravy prepared by my Grandma and carved by my uncle Tom; apple pie flavored gum is not even close to as good as my aunt Karen's or Joyce's apple pie; dried cranberries can't... well, no actually, I'd probably still take those over cranberry sauce...

The point is, even though I didn't get to be with the family for Thanksgiving, getting this little package in the mail—this reminder that home is waiting for me, even an ocean away—was almost enough to make up for missing one of my favorite holidays. It was enough just to know that I have a family that was thinking of me. All I would have needed is some of my grandma's famous "niener-niener rolls" (as we call them), and then I would have been completely content. ;)