Tea Time
Every day at around 9am and 3pm I drink black tea with milk and sugar. Pretty cup, saucer, sitting down somewhere, breathing deeper. It’s been my secret until now that I strangely feel connected to people I’ve never met, both real and fictional.
Corrie Ten Boom, having tea in the Beje with her father and sisters, loving their simple life of serving for God’s glory never knowing what He would soon ask them to do. Lay down their lives for greater glory. Reaching countless people with a message of His love is deeper than any darkness, all born out of horrific loss in concentration camps during Hitler’s regime.
On a lighter note, I connect with Mr. Putter, the sweet old man in Cynthia Rylant’s childrens books. His simple life adventures with his nervous cat are reminders to take time to make good soup, make a list of good things if I can’t write a novel, build and fly a model airplane with my sons if they want to someday, take the time to listen to good music. His simple pursuits are worthy and all marked with a pause for tea. And not just tea in a cup but there he is at the table with a tray filled with a pot of tea, a cup and saucer, his sugar bowl and creamer. I’ve taken my ritual up a notch after noticing that. It’s one thing to enjoy the drink and another thing to have complete pretty service in front of you.
There are many more people I think of and somehow connect to, but it’s a tradition I love and am teaching my children. We have an annual fancy Valentine’s tea party complete with berries and homemade cookies. We use their adorable circus teaset and they are true gentlemen. It’s a precious time of watching them try their best to remember every polite manner they’ve learned. A few times a week they have peppermint tea in big plastic mugs and they love cuddling up with it. They know it’s a special time to pause. That’s the point. Live life to the fullest, it passes so quickly, and with all the pursuits and callings, take special times to pause, think, and enjoy it.
