After Chaplain Radecke's blessing and President Lemons' annual Thanksgiving toast, everybody takes a gulp of sparkling cider. Then we all twist around to watch our professors carrying out steaming trays of food.
This year Dr. Klotz, my psychology professor, carved the turkey while the eight of us started in on our corn, greens, and mashed potatoes and gravy. Then, after we'd cleaned our plates, my Italian professor, Dr. Rodgers, served us slices of pumpkin pie.
Warm is the word I'd use to describe the whole evening. The sun's setting earlier and earlier now. It's already dark outside, dark and winter cold, but here we are, packed into the Everett Dining Room, sporting sweaters and button-down shirts, stuffed with good food, surrounded by our professors and our closest friends. It’s the best.
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