Is This Love?
When I was a child in my parents’ home, we gathered around a table for every meal. I was part of the younger set that didn’t have a chair. Rather, I shared a long, green, homemade wooden bench without a back. I never questioned my place or my privilege to share that table. That privilege was an expression of love. There were several, occasional dinner menus that I remember very well. One was a large bowl of mashed potatoes with some toasted bread croutons mixed throughout. We had the option of eating it just as served, or we could add Read More