For most years of my life, my mother would wake me each morning by bringing me hot tea in bed. The spoons and floral teacups would rattle as she rolled a wooden tea trolley down our concrete hallway, the house dark and still.
I can recall the memory easily and happily; the start of a new day as a child loved.
When we moved to a home with all the bedrooms on the second floor, mom rose early to carefully climb the stairs with her tea-tray. She delivered sweet, milky tea to four sons and a teenage daughter in a tender ritual of love we all had come to know so well.
St. Jude’s five children are all out of the house (why did we ever leave?) but our lucky father still benefits from this duty of delight each morning. When we are all fortunate enough to be together as a family, it is always around tea. Tea means that love is about to be poured out.
How do you greet your loved ones each morning? Do you think it matters?
Tea may not be your language of love, but what might be?
What morning memory will your children miss when they are no longer under your roof?
Last week my seventeen-year old son hugged me tight in the kitchen: ”Mom, I love that you seem so happy to see me in the morning, even when you’re mad at me. I will never forget that about you.”
Because, friends, it’s not really about the tea, is it?
Grace to you and yours as you cherish each new morning, and each precious soul under your roof.