Thanks to everyone who shared their real and imaginary peace making Tofurky stories with us. We were extremely impressed and incredibly honored by both the number of entries and the quality of the writing. We bow to all of you peacemakers out on the Tofurky frontier.

Seth Tibbott, President and Founder Turtle Island Foods

And the winners are...

1st place: David Weintraub, North Carolina
2nd place: Kenneth Weaver, Maryland
3rd place: Lindsay Coppens, Massachusetts
4th place: Scott Norris
5th place: Liam Kane-Grade

1st place: Our contest winner was written by David Weintraub of North Carolina.

David writes, "The way we live our lives (including the food we eat) does affect others. And each of us has a duty to try to make this crazy world a little bit saner, one Tofurky Brat at a time . .."

Congratulations to David and thank you to all who took the time to share with us their stories of Tofurky peacemaking.

No Man's Land
By David Weintraub

We arrived at boot camp, a bunch of misfits without hopes or dreams, but not without nightmares. I kept dreaming I was a bull in the ring, knives sticking in my back, ravenous for the red flag.

We shipped out together, sheltered in tents by night, digging fox holes in the searing heat by day. The villagers we were defending had no idea why we were there. Neither did we.

We huddled in our holes armed and ready. But ammo was low and when shots rang out, it resembled the last minute of a fireworks display -- a grand finale, then nothing. We had run out of bullets and so had they.

When minutes became hours, a few of us got up to poke around, the sergeant screaming that someone might get a skinned knee and bleed to death, or something. We waved across the dunes, popping from our holes like meerkats, stretching and shooting the breeze.

I stumbled across the desert to no man's land, Sarge roaring for my head. I shook the hand of the guy across from me, both of us with smiles and sweaty palms.

Someone cooked up a curry dish; a couple of us broke out the Tofurky Beer Brats and a portable grill. We exchanged brats for curried beans, hand signals for words, our sergeant silently praying that a fistfight, a rock fight, or an international incident might ensue, some reason to hate.

The birds above sang sweet songs, a language we all could understand.

A Tofurky Short

Future events, of course, won't be without their small glitches. The sustainable-rosewood tables will still be festooned and polished and arranged for maximum occupancy - everyone will manage to find a seat this time around - though there won't be any hurried waiters or butlers or busboys or doting wives, which might cause some initial confusions. The draperies will be drawn wide, and the flitting sunlight will amuse the House cats and the countless pardoned turkeys reclining on the carpet - there will be no animal of any sort upon the tables, of course - unless we allot them a special place to sit: miniaturized napkins, tiny place settings, and so forth, which may require some organization ahead of time. Also, there will be the geometric difficulty of sitting someone at the head of a circular table to contend with - causing knives to be fumbled, troubled glances to be exchanged, and stomachs and small children to grumble - leaving the well-dressed Tofurkys sitting at the center of each table, un-carved.

But I have no small faith in our future selves...

Coins will be flipped, straws will be drawn, and impromptu coloring contests will be staged. Perhaps turns can be taken in the carving process, and bottles of organic Beaujolais Nouveau will be uncorked and toasted in the meanwhile. The animals' coloring contest, I fear, may fare somewhat poorly - but sliced Tofurky will soon pass around each table, until all (even the turkeys) are stuffed.

A low moan escaped Rick's lips as he lay on cold pavement, eclipsed by
a heavy shadow of his peers.

What had Rick done to incur the punch that left him prostrate? During last period study the day before Thanksgiving, as the other kids salivated over turkey, giblets, and gravy ("Dude! Dark meat's the
best!"..."No way man, white meat rocks so bad!"), Rick was unable to control himself and piped in, "Tofurky! I like Tofurky best!!"

The moment the second Tofurky escaped his lips, Rick grasped for a time reversal button. But of course, instead, it seemed as if "Tofurrrrkyyyy beeesssst." hung suspended for an eternity in the stagnant classroom air. The boys' faces filled with joy as Rick's stinging eyes darted, looking for an escape, and came to rest briefly upon the sympathetic stare of a sad-eyed girl. Laughter erupted and as the taunting quickly built to a frenzied roar ("Toficky Ricky's gonna get stuffed!"), Rick knew he had sealed his fate: he'd soon be as dead as the parade of naked birds lining supermarket freezers. Meaty boys love to take swings, especially the afternoon before a long weekend. Rick braced himself for the bell.

As he lay motionless minutes later, the snickers faded with the afternoon light, but a shadow still loomed over him. As Rick wiped the blurriness away, a hand extended from the darkness. That delicate hand reached down to him accompanied by a hesitant voice, "Toficky's actually kinda cute. And Tofurky? I love it."

It was all so easy.

I remember the winter of 2009 like it was yesterday. The new US President moved from empty symbolism to an act of grace on that cold November day. No longer would a random Turkey be spared in a shallow West Lawn Photo op. From now on it would be real and true and move to the Executive dining room.

Sometimes I wonder if her daughter knows how much her constant nudging changed everything and how fast that one Tofurky changed the world.

The rock singer and activist who finally saw the connection between diet, compassion, and human suffering. The religious leader who saw the light and went on a campaign against systematic cruelty in our society. The overweight Minister who took the tradition back home across the sea.

In retrospect, it happened so fast I still can’t comprehend how one small act had such a grand affect. What I do remember is the details. The Slaughterhouse Closure act of 2011, how the air changed, the water, even peoples attitudes and priorities. I remember how it snowballed into other lifestyle choices and transformed our whole health case system. In fact, the new National Bike and Walk system was made possible due to that Tofurky!

Giving birth is never easy (as my mother often tells me) and there were many difficult times during the transformation but let me tell you the Phoenix reborn is always a sight to see.

Eden has returned.

It was all so easy.