Happy Sunday! I want to share with you all an exquisite photo essay by my friend Susan Licht.
Some of my most cherished memories are of sitting at my grandmother’s table, listening to the grown-ups talk…I absorbed a lot of wisdom and love on those Sundays sitting at grandma’s table.
Perhaps the World Ends Here
~ Joy Harjo
The world begins at a kitchen table. No matter what, we must eat to live.
The gifts of earth are brought and prepared, set on the table. So it has been since creation, and it will go on.
We chase chickens or dogs away from it. Babies teethe at the corners. They scrape their knees under it.
It is here that children are given instructions on what it means to be human. We make men at it, we make women.
At this table we gossip, recall enemies and the ghosts of lovers.
Our dreams drink coffee with us as they put their arms around our children. They laugh with us at our poor falling-down selves and as we put ourselves back together once again at the table.
This table has been a house in the rain, an umbrella in the sun.
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