We were nearing our first wedding anniversary and were the proud parents of a newborn daughter.  Stationed with the Marine Corps at Camp Lejeune, N.C., we could not go home for Thanksgiving.

At first we felt sad, but we wanted to behome for Christmas and had made that choice.

This would be our first Thanksgiving as amarried couple and as a family. I decided to cook dinner.

My husband, as chief clerk in the companyoffice, (Echo 2-2) invited everyone who was not going on leave.

We would break even more “firsts” that day.

This would be our first “formal” dinner. It was also my first attempt at cooking a turkey.

I spent a week or more looking through cookbooks – wedding presents that had become my close friends – copying recipes and making up the menu.

Everyone came. There were at least 10 of us – the majority under 21 years of age. For all of these combat veteran Marines it was their first Thanksgiving since returning from the war.

Everything went extremely well.

For me that meant the turkey and trimmings were all ready at the same time. And the house was full of good aromas and even better conversation.

As they sat down to eat, someone mentioned a “Thanksgiving Prayer.”

I stood and watched as these brave young men, from large cities and small towns all over the United States, joined only by the common bonds of the Corps, and a misunderstood war, lifted their hearts in prayer.

They remembered their departed comrades, their friends who were still in country, and their wonderful, supportive families.

They said the meal was delicious. Everyone enjoyed it. But then, I think the meal didn’t really matter. It was the companionship that made the day.

Our company stayed long into the night. They relaxed, laughed, told family stories and enjoyed each others company.

And, one by one, I watched as each of them held and rocked our baby daughter, whispering sweet secrets to her.

It wasn’t long before we realized that it was she who made us a family. And for those men so far away from their own families, she was the nearest thing to home they could touch.

I often wonder what happened to those Marines. We have lost touch over the years.

I wonder, too, if ever they remember thatThanksgiving, our first family holiday.

I know our daughter doesn’t realize just what a precious gift she gave us that day. Bless her, she made a world that was far from perfect perfectly all right – for one moment.

Special thanks to the Lohr family for providing us with their timeless holiday story.