Our dinner table is a treasure, not for its pristine shine or expensive price tag, but for the bonding we all shared sitting around it in our second hand chairs we snagged before the local Wendy’s restaurant threw them in the landfill. As a matter of fact, my husband made it for me himself when we moved to this little country farm house and our old table had fallen apart.
We’ve laughed ourselves silly over gaffs in speech, held each other accountable for unkindness, and shed more than a few tears. That table, with all its dings and scrapes, is a symbol of unity in our home. [Read more…]