|photo credit to ana-white.com|
Sometimes our tables were small and only had space for ourselves. Or maybe one other person.
Sometimes our tables were a place of strife and anger. A place to trade barbs and duck for cover so as not to be hit.
Maybe your table was a place to be quiet. A place where no ideas were exchanged. If anyone dared to voice their opinions, it was taboo. So you felt stifled and alone. Just waiting for your chance to escape.
Perhaps your table was filled with people and voices and ideas. So crowded that you weren't even sure what your voice sounded like because it was drowned under the crashing tide of everyone else's.
It can take a little time to find our table. Growing up our tables are often chosen for us. Either thru family, community or socio-economic standing. But when we get older, we have the choice of what we want our table to be.
For me, I want my table to be as welcoming and inviting as my Grandma's table always is. I knew without a doubt that whatever I asked, I could have. I knew my Grandma's table was a safe table. I want my table to be fun and light when it needs to be. I also want it to be a place where people can open up and share their hurts. A place where people can receive comfort.
I hope my kids remember the table as a place to share their day. Where they learn some table manners, but also how to have a conversation.
What kind of table do you want to have? What kind of table do you come from?