I have a great big table, in my not so great big kitchen; It was my Mothers, and now is mine...
Where my family shares the evening meal that I prepare each night. Heads are bowed and blessings given with each meal. This table has born silent witness to many long nights of homework, mornings having coffee with a neighbor, catching up on gossip, and conversations of all kind.
Banquets have been laid upon this table, fit for a king, yet feeding the homeless and hopeless, needing someone to break bread with, and even bread to break.
Crises have been discussed, addressed and sometimes solved around this table; It has held countless birthday cakes and coloring books, board games and the occasional child climbing on top of it.
It is good sturdy oak, however faded the finish - it squeaks a bit now, and all its chairs are long gone...Yes, this table has seen many family celebrations, and some tragedies; Always, a place to rest your elbows and hold your head, or someone elses hands.
In re-decorating my kitchen I could not bear to part with this old table, so amidst all the new, sits my old friend, spruced up with a new runner, and happy, I am sure, to still be a part of the family.