Dear Lord, we thank You fer the flood in April. We lost two cows and a chicken but at least it put out the barn fire and allowed Jed to boat to school for a week when his leg was botherin' him anyway. On the subject o' Jed's legs, we're right thankful that the gangrene only took one but t'other one is still lookin' a mite green and we don't want to bother you or nothin, but perhaps You could save us the doctor's fees and just let this one fall off on its own? We're a mite short this month on account o' havin' to pay to get Granny bailed outta pokey again.
See, she were causin' a ruckus in town what with stripping down to her skivvies and tryin' to dance on the bar at McKeevers Saloon. She don't mean to offend Lord, she just gets a bit confused sometimes, like that one time she streaked through the church nekkid on Easter Morn' yelling "Jesus Loves Me This I Know" at the top of her lungs. We hope You understand that she meant no disrespect. And it surely weren't as if anything lascivious were happening in your house on account o' Granny bein' such a withered old bag o' bones nobody in their right mind would find her scrawny behind attractive at this stage in her life, though as she does tell it was quite a different story back when she were a young girl. We have had to keep the younger children away from Granny as we were afeared she might corrupt their innocent young minds with her stories of the olden days.
Dear Gracious Lord, we would also like to thank you fer the fire that burned half the barn b'fore the flood put it out, as it killed many of the locusts that were devourin' the corn stored within. Course it also burned the corn up to a crisp and we all smelled like a summer corn roast for nigh' on a week, but we are still thankful because we know that Thine providence will provide even after we eat these last three turnips for Thanksgiving dinner.
Thank you also for Ma's bein' filled with Your Holy Spirit. She don't get much cookin' or cleanin' done anymore, but she sure does seem happier. She's out in the side yard, rollin' around in a barrel right now. We tried to get her to come and share a Thanksgiving meal with us but she threw clods o' dirt at us so we left her alone. We figure that means more turnip fer the rest of us anyway.
We thank You especially fer Pa's amazing recovery from pleurisy. We thought fer sure he was a goner and we had already sent Aurthur to town to bring back the doc so's we could get a signed statement, and cash in that insurance policy Aunt Madge bought Pa for his 50th birthday. We were sure relieved when he pulled through even though the hundert dollars from that policy would have allowed us to eat for another month and feed the cow that survived the flood. And on the subject o' Bessy, we're thankful that she didn't eat all of the Johnsons' cabbage when she escaped, just half. They were kind enough to let our Jed make restitution by plowin' their back forty. It might take him a while considerin' the situation with his leg, but he's a determined boy and we know he will get it done before the deadline the Johnsons have imposed and they will not have to call the sheriff.
In conclusion, dear Lord, please bless these three paltry turnips and... sorry Lord, we gotta wrap this up short on account o' Granny once again running buck nekkid through the barnyard, not that this is usually a cause for alarm but she seems to have stolen Ma's barrel and Ma is looking fit to be tied. We gotta get out there and separate those two b'fore they get in 'nother catfight like the one last year when Granny bit Ma's ear so hard it got infected real bad and needed those fancy medicines from town.