Table For One

 Table For One

Today's entry is about one of my two favorite pieces of furniture, the other being my mother's cedar chest. It is from July 27, 2009.

We still have a few things left to sort of Mom and Dad's property although it's getting down to the end. One thing I asked for when we were dividing their household items was a table Dad made when I was little. Carpentry is not a skill that jumps to mind when most people think of my father. (The same applies to me. The only D I ever received in school was in 8th grade wood shop; I mangled the attempt at constructing a small wooden pen holder.) But as I think back, Dad took on some major projects at our various addresses. He completely remodeled the basement of our last house in Nebraska and he built book cases into the walls of four homes. He engineered a cupola on top of our house in the country and he designed and constructed a patio from used brick at that same acreage. He was no Bob Vila but I guess Dad did have a decent portfolio!

I brought that table back from Wichita last week. It had been sitting in Dave's classroom since Dave and Scott had moved all the folks' furniture from St. Louis last year. To be honest, I don't know what kind of wood it's made from. As you can see above, it's round and inlaid with tile, forming a pattern of leaves. Dad must have been proud of that little table. He entered it in the Nebraska State Fair....and won a ribbon! But that's not why I wanted the table. You see, I was in kindergarten that year and Dad took me with him to display his creation. I can remember thinking I was in big trouble because you just weren't supposed to miss school for any reason! I don't know why my father chose me to go with him that day...but he did. It wasn't that big of a deal except that I recall it vividly to this day. Maybe he remembered taking me and maybe he didn't but a five year old boy never forgot. What do you think the table would fetch at a yard sale today? What is the value of an eternal memory or my father molding his child the way his father molded him? There were two patterns displayed that autumn day in Lincoln, Nebraska. One was made with tile; the other was a mosaic of love. I bet God gave my dad a ribbon, too.

Applicable quote of the day:
"Ultimately, literature is nothing but carpentry. With both you are working with reality, a material just as hard as wood. "
Gabriel Garcia Marquez

God bless,
Steve
Luke 18:1