This year, the home of my brother, Alberto, and his wife, Norma, was chosen as the host for this special holiday. Family members drove from as far as San Francisco, Berkeley, San Ramon, Mission Viejo, Los Angeles and Santa Clarita, to get together in West Hills to celebrate, once more, Thanksgiving.

Traditionally, the hosting family takes charge of the food and assigns each family a menu item(s) to bring. There is always plenty to eat and with a group as large as ours, two turkeys are the order of the day in addition to a honeybaked ham and all the complimentary trimmings, desserts, salads and refreshments, to feed the entire clan.

The gathering usually starts in the early afternoon, as family members arrive in small groups. We hug and greet each other and lively conversations go on until the hosting family prepares the table, and an announcement is made to gather around the dinner table. No one is allowed to touch the food - by this time everybody is usually starving - until the patriarch of the family, grandpa Alberto says grace.

Silence is golden while he speaks but as soon as he finishes the last words, a feeding frenzy begins. Of course, the hungry grandchildren jump the line and pile on the goodies - first come, first served (self-serve that is).

No age rank pulled here, except for grandpa and grandma. I usually wait until everyone has gone through the line. There is always plenty of food. Besides I enjoy the lively show of laughter and joy. Everybody is happy and sharing a good time.

We are blessed as a family and we are thankful for everything we have.