When I was a small child, some of my best memories is of our family gathered around the dining room table. It may have been just our immediate family (all 11 of us) but usually there were two or three or four more added to the mix. We had a gynormous (really big) table that seemed to expand to accommodate however many were gathered to eat.

My mom set a beautiful table. We used the best silver often. My mom didn’t feel the need to save the silver or china or crystal for only Christmas or Easter or Thanksgiving. Every night was an opportunity to celebrate something. It was around the table that our family shared life. We ate together. Depending on my Dad’s shift work schedule - we ate together at lunch or supper. (Those were the days when kids didn’t stay at school to eat their lunch). I digress. It was around the table that we talked of world events, school events, local events, sports, politics, church goings on, and the like. It was where sisters were teased by brothers about boyfriends. It was where tears were shed about a failed test result, a relationship breakup, a neighbour’s death. It was around the same table where the winning shot in a basketball game was described in detail - over and over again, where a new girlfriend was introduced to the family, where - sometimes - everyone talked at once. And always at the end of the meal, everyone would say “good supper, Ma!”

It was around the table where manners were taught.

Please pass the butter.

Thank you.

Use your serviette, not your sleeve.

When you are finished eating, put your knife and fork across the middle of your plate.

Stay at the table until everyone is finished eating and wait for permission to leave.

These were lessons for life. These were preparations for the outside world. These were manners that would be used in the future.

My mom prepared me to be a wife and a mom and grammie who enjoys hospitality and the gathering around the dinner table. There have been memorable moments in my home too.

We lived in Listowel when the boys were in elementary school and their early years in high school. It was all we could do to feed three very hungry boys three meals a day. I always added a loaf of bread to the supper menu to help fill those “hollow legs!” The odd time all my desires to have a proper dinner table flew out the window. Randy and the boys loved to toss a piece of their food and catch it in their mouths. This would drive me nuts. One day, Randy got more creative and put a piece of banana on a spoon - flung it in the air and prepared to catch it in his mouth when it came down. Only it didn’t come down. It stuck to the ceiling. Oh, the laughter. The boys thought this was the best ever. Any chance to have order that night was for naught.

Another time when we were pastoring in Listowel, we were going through a particularly difficult time. It happens to pastors and their families. We were discouraged. We were tempted to quit. We were lonely. We prayed for guidance and strength and hope. Hope showed up at church the next Sunday. It was a man visiting from the States. After church he asked us if he could pick up lunch for our family and bring it to our house and join us for a meal. I went home - set the table and we waited for him to arrive. Arrive he did, with a bounty of delicious food from one of the local restaurants. We talked long after the boys had finished their dinner and had gone out to play. This man stayed in our community for a few weeks (working in the area) - shared many lunches and dinners with us - encouraged our hearts, prayed with us, brought gifts to the boys and befriended us with what we needed at just the right time. After a few weeks, he went back home. We never saw him again. We looked up his name and business in the city where he said he was from - guess what - no such person. I do believe we entertained an angel for that period of time. (Hebrews 13:2) “Do not forget to show hospitality to strangers, for by so doing some people have shown hospitality to angels without knowing it.”

When we lived in Cambridge it was during the time when the boys were in high school and university. Before moving to Cambridge from Listowel I prayed we’d find a house that had a pool. In the five months of waiting to sell and then buy, many homes came and went. I kept praying that when the time was right, God would provide a pool with the house. Sure enough (as if there was any doubt), the day our house sold in Listowel, a home in Cambridge came up for sale - with a pool. We put an offer in on the spot and soon our offer was accepted and the house would be ours. That pool brought many teenagers and families to our home that led to many lunches and suppers around the table. One day I arrived home from being out and Pete had brought the rugby team home - including the coaches - all those great big boys in the pool - starving after practice. I quickly emptied every cookie can onto trays - made trays of fruit - crackers and cheese - chips and pop - and voila - a picnic for all those kids and their teachers. (Many of those teachers showed up years later at Randy’s funeral). I do believe that pool and the food that was offered and the friendships made during those years - blessed a whole lot of people.

It was one year ago today that my mom came to live with Harv and I. She would be with us for 10 weeks before her faith became sight and she went home to heaven to be with her Lord. Because of the dementia that had taken over her memory, her stories were few and those stories were repeated over and over again. One of her most loved stories was about her young family around the dinner table. She could picture her lovely table set with her china and silver and her husband and children sitting together.

You know! It doesn’t matter if you use sterling silver knives and forks. It doesn’t matter if you use crystal stemware or paper cups. It doesn’t matter if you use Royal Doulton China or plastic. What matters is that we are a hospitable people. It matters that we sit around our tables and share life. It matters that we invite the lovely and sometimes the unlovely to our table. It matters that we teach our children and grandchildren the fine art of saying - “yes please” or “no, thank you.” It matters that we take the time to listen to each other. It matters that we don’t rush through the dinner time to get on to the next thing. It matters that the family dinner table remains an important part of the day.

I continue to love to have people around our table. I love it when it’s just the two of us. I love it when the kids and grandkids are home. I love when friends are here. I love to cook and bake. I love to use the “good dishes”. Many of the dishes I use have been given to me by relatives and friends. What a gift and privilege it is to bless others around our table. Who wants to come for supper?