We recently had a significant holiday in our home culture.  Or should I say “home” culture – I still can’t get over that, sorry! – and one of the main attractions is a turkey.  Two weeks before the big event, I began asking around among my local friends, “Do you know where I can get a turkey?”  I was met with the same two answers all the time, “No, I don’t think there are any turkeys available,” or “You could check at the big store in town.”  When I went into the big store, I asked for a turkey to be delivered from the capital, and the owner replied with the typical, “Insha’allah”.  I knew that I was in trouble when, a few days later, my husband went into the shop to confirm that he had put in the order for the turkey, and the shop keeper again replied with “Insha’Allah.”  What does that mean???  Does it mean that God willing the turkey will arrive?  Or does it mean that God willing you put in the order?  Or does it mean that God willing the shop will still be in existence when God willing the turkey arrives that God willing you’ve ordered? 

Understandably, I began to panic. 

Again, I put out the word among my friends, “Do you know if there are any turkeys in the country at all?” 

One dear friend, who has just come into my life this year, replied to my pleas.  Her husband is friends with the guy who imports the frozen chickens (our market is pretty limited, so there aren’t a variety of different brands.  When I say that he imports the frozen chickens, I mean he imports the frozen chickens) and asked him if there are any turkeys.  The guy said, “Oh no, no, no.  This isn’t turkey season.  We import turkeys in December.” 

Okay, a quick aside.  “This isn’t turkey season.”  This is the first time I’ve heard of such a thing.  They are living creatures!  It’s not like they are a type of fruit that only comes to ripeness one to two months per year.  Throw more grain at them, fatten them up and voila!  Turkey season! 

Hearing it from the guy who imports the turkeys themselves, I felt resigned to the fact that we really wouldn’t have turkey for our big meal.  However, I knew that knowing there weren’t any hiding anywhere in the country, I’d be able to swallow the hard truth of chicken in it’s stead much more easily because it’s not like there was a turkey out there somewhere and I just couldn’t get my grubby hands on it.   

The day before the big day, I was ripping up the bread for the stuffing, and my phone rang.  I ran for it, and missed the call on the last ring.  Looking at the call display, I realized it was my dear friend.  I quickly hit redial and she answered breathlessly, “I was just dialing your mobile phone!  I didn’t want to leave a message because this news is just TOO exciting!”  What?  What is it?? 

“Do you still want a turkey?” 

Oh my gosh!! Yes!  Yes, I do!

“The guy who imports the frozen turkeys put the word out and found a fresh, live turkey in town that someone is willing to kill and give to you.  Do you want it?  If you do, I’ll call him right away, they’ll kill it for you and our driver will bring it to your house.” 

Are you kidding me?  A last minute turkey miracle! 

True to her word, the driver arrived shortly afterwards and the turkey was delivered, still warm and with a few stubs of feathers poking out here and there. 

The next day, with pride, I presented the turkey to our nationally-common guests and grinned along with the excitement of everyone.  How special!  A turkey on our day of turkey, along with all the fixings!  It wasn’t a steroid turkey of the West, but it was absolutely perfect and the sweetest of miracles. 

Gobble Gobble!