By Lynne Almasy
As I’m polishing up the house for next week’s feast, I come to my kitchen table. I’ve had it for almost 30 years. it has enough leaves to make it banquet sized. I’ve considered replacing it over the years. But it holds almost every memory I cherish.
It has hosted birthday parties, holidays, and funeral dinners. Hundreds of kids have joined our family for supper. We’ve shared meals with people from three continents.
It has permanent paint and nail polish stains. It has nicks from where toddlers beat their spoon on the table. It has marks from kids stapling photos to science fair projects. It has seen hours of homework.
My table has also been the place of much prayer, and life decision making. It has seen joy and sorrow.
As we gather to give thanks next week, I am grateful for all the memories made, around my kitchen table.
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