At This Table
A poem has been bouncing around socials and, just last week, three of my school friends sent it to me with almost the same comment, This reminds me so much of your dad. I read the poem several times and was immediately captivated - it does, indeed, perfectly describe my dad’s hospitality ethos! There may or may not have been a tear or two.
At this table, everyone is welcome1
If you’d asked my dad, he’d have told you that having visitors meant food. Always. No exceptions. No matter the time of day, no matter whether they were surprise callers or invited guests, and no matter if they were family, or my young friends, or my parent’s friends, my Dad was sure to be urging food upon our guests. Mum would have immediately put the kettle on and would be arranging cups and saucers and jugs of milk and Dad would begin food assembly and prep. My folks were as poor as the proverbial church mice but oh-so-generous and kind-hearted.
There's enough for everyone
So come as you are
Remember that the door is always open1
Within minutes, the teapot would be heated, the kettle would be whistling, and on a Saturday morning the tantalizing aroma of coffee perking on the stove would be filling the kitchen. There’d be plates of biccies and pastries, some hastily prepared sammies, and, if one had been baked, slices of cold Ham ’n Egg pie (a weekend staple). More chairs would quickly have appeared around the kitchen table (never a thought of going into the dining room), and everyone — even the kiddos — would settle in for a few cuppas, nourishment and a proper good chin wag. Never a variation.
At this table, everyone is welcome
At this table, everybody cares
At this table, everybody matters
So come, pull up a chair1
In the little house on Joy Drive, food was always so much more than mere sustenance — it was a physical expression of the love Mum and Dad felt for our family, friends and neighbours. It was a reflection of their warmth and kindness. It was symbolic of the heartfelt welcome and the peace everyone felt in our home and around our kitchen table.
If more of us valued food and cheer and song above hoarded gold, it would be a merrier world.2
Before we kids were allowed to leave the table, and even if it had been a snack and not a full meal, there’d be a quickly mumbled, very simple grace. This ritual was less about thanking God (‘though that was important too), and more about fostering gratitude within us - a clutch of kids and tweens with no awareness of hunger, deprivation and starvation. Our food was never to be taken for granted.
Christmas was when my dad really shone! He’d bake dozens upon dozens of mincemeat tarts, shortbread, fruit cakes, sausage rolls and plum puddings. Every night after work, as soon as our meal had been cleared away, the cloth would come off the table and Dad would get to work on whichever delicacy was most quickly needed. My favourite was his Charlotte Russe - I loved watching him assemble it and I really loved eating it! Pretty much all December-long, the wee house on Joy smelled tantalizingly wonderful with his divine baking aromas.
Advent has begun. Have you hung your calendar yet? Have you begun your traditional baking? The Christmas season is a time of smiles, cosy hugs, and the caress of a friendly hand. A time of warmth, welcome and comfort. A time of fireside chats, caroling, hot cocoa and mulled wine. Perhaps even a time to shed a few private tears over the loss of a loved one. It is a time of plentiful good food but mostly, it is a time for home, family and friends.
So come as you are
Remember that the door is always open
Yes, come as you are
The perfect gift that you could bring is your heart
So come, come as you are1
’Til next time, y’all…
1Idina Menzel from her song (link): At This Table (full text below). I hope you enjoy listening to the song and reading the poem and most of all, that your Christmas season reflects its message of love and kindness. xx
2 J.R.R. Tolkien, page 218, Chapter 18 “The Return Journey” from his novel The Hobbit.
At This Table
At this table, everyone is welcome
At this table, everyone is seen
At this table, everybody matters
No one falls between
At this table, you can say whatever
At this table, you can speak your mind
At this table, everything's forgiven
There's enough for everyone
So come as you are
Remember that the door is always open
Yes, come as you are
The perfect gift that you could bring is your heart
So come, come as you are
At this table, there will be no judgement
At this table, mercy has a seat
At this table, we're all sons and daughters
There's no place I'd rather be
So come as you are
Remember that the door is always open
Come as you are
The perfect gift that you could bring is your heart
Come, come as you are
Come as you are, oh
At this table, everyone is welcome
At this table, everybody cares
At this table, everybody matters
So come, pull up a chair.