True and Fascinating Canadian History
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Tales from Fort Healy
A Timeless Turkey Christmas Tale
by J. J. Healy
Traditionally, the joists which hold the Christmas crib together are peace, serenity, joy & forgiveness. So it is quite understandable for one to be annoyed when the tranquility of Christmas has been overcome with calamity. And yet, that's exactly what transpired in this timeless Christmas tale.
From the early days of the NWMP, padres have played a very, very important role in the Force whether the occasion is crisis or celebration. The presence of a padre can be comforting in times of sadness and he or she is also welcome at joyous celebrations such as weddings, new babies, baptisms and blessings.
I have always tried to be a friend to RCMP Padres especially if they require a little assistance. It has been my experience that padres are experts at and near the altar and during divine service, but inevitably they need help to park their car or with finding the exact change for the meter. Yet, all in all, police padres are pure human, good story tellers and willing to listen to a good joke.
At one time or another, practically every police family has needed the help of a police padre. So, one would think that Padres deserve only appreciation versus being served a raw meal so to speak. Sure, the real sentiment of Christmas is peace but the following story which I'm about to tell actually made me think that peace took wings.
It was Christmas time and all was peaceful. I had accepted an invitation for brunch with several other RCMP Vets. We were in a most joyous and generous mood, so we decided to invite our wives. The whole affair was supposed to be relaxed and pleasant. I had intended to wish everyone peace within their family -- after all, it was Christmas and the time is set aside worldwide to be a joyous occasion.
At the restaurant, drinks had been served and the salad had arrived. Just then, one Vet asked politely for silence within the assembled so that he could tell the group a Christmas story which involved a padre at the Vet's community church.
It seemed that the Veteran and his wife had attended a church service on Christmas Eve. At the conclusion of the service, the padre wished the congregation "Best Wishes for Christmas", then he added: "I hope the person who took my turkey will return it before tomorrow!"
At this point, the story-telling Vet turned very sad, but he continued. He said "our padre apparently was about to take an afternoon nap, but beforehand, he reasoned that he should put his Christmas turkey in the fridge in the basement of the church to thaw. "It was Christmas Eve afternoon. It's not a bad idea", thought the padre, "why not let my turkey thaw while I nap and dream of turkey legs"? "Rightfully so", said the padre to himself, "according to my clock, it was turkey thaw-time".
By this time, the Vet telling the story had misty eyes. I could feel some tension in the Vet's voice and his story took on a melodramatic air. "Apparently", said the Vet, "the padre had gotten a big surprise for Christmas. About the time of the 7 PM service, the padre went to check the fridge for his turkey bird. His turkey went missing! No farewell message! There it was, gone! Flew the coop as it were! Left the building"!
"His turkey was likely stolen"! said the Vet. "It was no joke', sadly said the Vet. "Our padre had no bird"! Suddenly the entire restaurant turned eerily quiet.
Finally, the Vet's tale of woe came to an end. He sat down beside me. In sympathy, my wife put her hand on his arm for comfort. But, not asingle soul at the table could think of the right words to console him. I felt alone too, but I also reasoned that the silence at the table had to be broken. Our turkey dinner had not yet been served and then there was to be apple crumble. I surmised that the sting lingering in the Vet's heart had to be soothed. My wife gave me a gentle prod to say a few words.
OK, I thought, "If the padre was minus a bird, what could I add"? "Perhaps nothing, but I'll give it a try".
To begin, I quietly tried a few kind words to console my friend. Then, I recalled that as a small boy in New Brunswick, I had once owned some turkeys. "In fact", I said: "by the age of seven, I had attended several turkey autopsies conducted by a friend of my father who owned an axe. At the man's elbow, I had witnessed the pathology of a dozen or so turkeys".
"To most people", I explained, "a turkey is meant to be eaten as a special holiday food. First she is fattened, then she is taken to market. Not much more is known about the creature. Nor does anyone seem to care."
"However", I continued, "there is a flip side to this bird. You see, a turkey is generally thought to be domesticated. But, that's not always the case -- a turkey (especially the male gender) will not simply hang leisurely around the house. A turkey is not the same as a pet. A dog, for instance, will stay with its master as long as food is available or if food is within its scent. That's a dog known fact."
"But", I said "little is known about turkey trends except that, for sure, they can gallop faster than a ram in overdrive. Other than it's speed, one cannot measure a male turkey's 'hang time' like one would measure a golf ball in flight. "For proof about the nature and reputation of a turkey's evasiveness, I said, "study the origin of the turkey's Latin name as I wrote it plainly on a table napkin".
"Meleagris Gallopavo".
"That's it", I said, as I pointed to the napkin for the misty eyed Vet. 'Study carefully both Latin words -- look very, very carefully. Note anything in particular in the second word, I asked"?
"Yes", he said, scratching his head. "I see your point". "What's the lesson", I quizzed? Rather than wait for the Vet to respond or guess, I provided him the answer. "From the Latin term for turkey, one can learn something. Padres should be forewarned. One can suspect a turkey's true motives. If a turkey is not guarded, it's bound to up and gallop away"!
My wife and I then saw a new relaxed Vet.
"I'm sorry, but I was only trying to provide some consolation, after all it's Christmas", I said.
"Well anyway", said the Vet quite soberly. "Our padre's day ended quite fair. Although his turkey bird got away, he was invited out to Christmas dinner by friends in our congregation. Next year, I'll make sure he knows not to leave his turkey bird unattended".
"Bravo"! I responded, "It's all you're expected to do for a turkey".
So ended the sad tale of the missing Christmas turkey. In the end, our dinner was truly a Merry Christmas Celebration!
Reporting from Fort Healy,
J. J. Healy
January 24, 2000
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