Posts tagged "tradition"

Dinnertime Discussions at Our Lifegiving Table

“Here’s what I think . . .”
It was a night just like any other, which is to say it was another evening of rousing discussion. Soup spoons suspended in midair, quizzical brows, the thumping of a printed-out article on the table. The article in question had been the source of that evening’s discussion. I can’t recall the exact topic of debate, but it likely had something to do with a...

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The Return Home

Less than a week ago we were eight hours from home vacationing on the shores of the Atlantic. This morning I dropped my daughter at school for her first day of first grade. That means summer break is officially over at our house. My brain and my body aren't sure what to make of the rapid change of pace and scenery. I feel a bit like the rug (or beach towel)...

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Comfort Food For Those Who Mourn

Today is gray and chilly, and raindrops are sliding down the window slowly, like tears. It is the last hour before dinner, and I am scrambling to write this post for Grace Table. My husband is traveling for work this week, and I left the sitter with the kids and a big pot of slowly thawing soup. I had most of the day to work, a rare thing, but I...

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The Dish, A Family And A Place At The Table

It was a late December day and I had not yet made “the dish.” We have it every year during the holidays. And other times if I decide to make it. It is nothing fancy, but it is a big part of the holidays. While home alone one afternoon I started the process. It is not a 20 minute thrown together dinner. It takes time, planning and preparation. I start...

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Saying Yes To God

Lent is nearly upon us. On Wednesday, many of us will go to church and be marked on our foreheads with the sign of the cross, a reminder of our mortality and a call to repentance.  During the weeks that follow, as we walk figuratively with Jesus to Jerusalem and death, many of us will fast, a reminder of the desert where Jesus fasted 40 days, where the Israelites wandered 40 years. ...

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This Is How We Love Each Other

This is how we love each other. There should always be homemade Chex mix on the counter, in a twenty year old Tupperware dish. Also, there should be my 94-year-old grandmother Deenie’s peanut patties (dyed red with food coloring, made with corn syrup) available to all. Speaking of red food coloring, I have to mention Mom’s chocolate chip meringue cookies. (Sometimes they’re also dyed green.) The night before Christmas Eve...

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The Thing About Tradition

The small television in the hospital room flashed the familiar sights of colorful floats and massive balloons high in the sky. The sound of high school marching bands competed with beeping  monitors and the hum of the blood pressure cuff squeezing my arm tight at regular intervals.  I love a parade. Never mind I hadn’t slept a single minute the night before, what with a newborn crying at me all...

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On Celebrating Our Smallness

From the back seat of the car, out my window, I watch London concrete and skyline blur into verdant hills punctuated with white, wooly sheep. Weaving around farms, through dales and down high streets, we travel to the country before dusk. My mind and heart slow in the exhale of a commute to the Cotswolds for a writing retreat. Behind me in the boot, next to a bag of books,...

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The Tablecloth

The white steeple rose high from the brick and mortar church on the corner. Deep within the sanctuary Grandfather preached, Grandma sat in the front row with her red hair curled up tight, and Mother played the small piano. Small town USA, beneath the gentle rising - falling cadence of a preacher's voice. Somewhere in the middle of a middle pew sat a widow, old and frail, faithfully tuning her...

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Granny’s Southern Grace {And a Recipe}

I was raised on sweet tea, by southern Grace. The soft-around-the-middle woman served up both often and her door was always open with something tangibly sweet on the washer for whoever would drop by. She often chided that a little “mouse” seemed to get into her pound cake after school many afternoons while she was at work. I was sneaky like that — minus the crumbs I would leave. Around...

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