When I was a little girl one of my favorite places to be was at my Grandmother’s table. It wasn’t particularly large or especially beautiful. There were 6, sometimes 8 chairs surrounding it. A brightly colored, flower embroidered cloth covered the wood beneath. When the tablecloth needed a wash a vibrantly striped sarape would cover it instead.
The adults would gather there to sit and visit and eat. The fragrant aromas of frijoles, (beans) fresh chili and warm tortillas wafted from the table top. My elders told the history of our family. I remember laughing at all their funny stories. I learned to respect their years.
One afternoon, when I was approaching my 10th summer, my grandmother called me into the dining room. She told me we were going to have a “coffecito”. “Just the two of us”, she said. I was invited to sit with her at the table. She had prepared two coffee cups, a petite pitcher of milk and a sugar bowl. There was a small platter of pan dulces (Mexican sweet bread) and another of Mexican candies. I could smell the strong coffee as she brought the pot to the table. She poured a little of the steaming black liquid into my cup and filled the rest with white milk. She allowed me to add the sugar. With the tiny spoon she gave me, I stirred and stirred until the hot mixture cooled into a creamy caramel color. I waited for permission to taste. Delicious!
I grew to look forward to the special times we spent together. As I matured beyond the sweet treats I began to appreciate that I was given an extraordinary gift. At my grandmother’s table, I belonged. I was accepted. I was heard. There was the engaging conversation. Truth with was spoken into my life. I was challenged to question and to think. Good humor with correction was sometimes necessary. Wisdom, grounded in faith, was shared. There, was love. Always love. Little did I know at the time that I was being introduced to a cultural ritual passed down from one generation to another and inducted into the fellowship of women.
I have kept the tradition of sitting and eating and sharing with women around my table. I have been privileged to minister to women for over 27 years. Since 1994 I have served as the director of the Women of Heart ministry for Corazón Ministries. As I am now entering my 61st summer, I feel a conviction to tell the stories born out of a living faith in Jesus Christ that has spanned more than 4 decades. Titus 2:3-5 instructs the older women to encourage the younger women as they traverse the seasons and stages of life. This blog, From My heart, will be my place, my table if you will, to share and encourage. My desire, should you choose to visit and follow, is that your heart is expressed. I want to be real as we share wisdom and we get to know one another. I hope you will feel accepted and experience a sense of belonging here. Mostly, I pray that with a bit of humor and truth saying a loving sisterhood will flourish.
Welcome to my blog: From my heart. Pull up your imaginary chair to my table and let’s share a cup of friendship.