Setting the Table

Today I set the table for a special meal: the first of our Christmas dinners.  While I arranged the plates and the napkins, the spoons and the glasses, I was reminded of this prayer that I first read some time ago...

Setting the Table

As I lay the fork near the plate,
let me remember this is Your table, not mine.
As I set the water glasses down
and fold the napkins, let me be reminded
that every setting at this table
is Yours, not mine.

Each one who will partake of this meal
is a particular someone You love, a someone
You have made and whom You sustain.
In You nothing and no one is forgotten.
How vast and providential is the memory
with which You keep us all.

It is only we who forget You
and then one another.
It is we who starve each other
and exclude each other.
Give me new eyes.
When the glass is raised by my friend,
let me see You drinking.
When the fork is lifted by my child,
let me recognize You eating.
You are the hidden joy which feeds
and keeps everything. You are the table,
the guest, the meal, and the commemoration.

Make in my person a place setting for You.
Remind me of my true nature
which is recalled only in You.

~ Gunilla Norris, in Being Home

(Yes, I know the tablecloth is wrinkly.  No, I don't care.  By the time we gathered to eat, nearly every inch of the tablecloth was covered--with dishes of ham, scalloped potatoes, wild rice with dried fruit, my sister's famous mac and cheese, my sister-in-law's infamous ;-) brussels sprouts, sauteed mushrooms, dill beans/green olives/Jeff's pickles, a fresh veggie tray, and cranberry salad, etc.  Believe me, with all that food piled high, no one was wasting a second wondering if there was a wrinkle underneath the nearest trivet.  ;-)  Ironing tablecloths is a task that lands so far down on my priority list that it's not even on the list!)  :)