Grace Around Grace

Grace and the barn: it brought us the story of a particular table that sits on the porch of our sweet Canadian friend Ann.

But such stories are only beginnings. Our lives, and perhaps the tables in our lives, have stories behind stories behind stories. It was my profound artist friend Erin who remembered this, who said in the comment box, Ooooo, I bet the history behind that table is a gooooood story.

So I wrote to Ann, asking for the story behind the story. And this is what she said...

A story behind that table? At first, I thought no... no stories that I know. Discarded from a sister-in-law, we dragged it off to the barn, where it quietly sat for the past decade.

And then, yes, it came — a story scrap (for isn't everything storied?)

I wanted a gathering place for the porch... nothing grand or ornate. (Read: nothing glass, shiny, curvy). Just simple, a bit worn, quiet. (Do seating arrangements reflect our personalities?) Like a hawk, I scoped out thrift stores, garage sales. To no avail. Couldn't find a plain, wooden, worn table. (Does this somehow speak of the oddity of this personality? ~warm smile~)

And then I thought of the barn table: Yes. Exactly right. (Yes, I'm a farm girl— where else to find the perfect table?)

The only glitch was that kind Dutch Farmer whose wedding band I wear. He said he needed the barn table to remain in the barn. It was a fine repository for various miscellany. The perfect size. The perfect shape. The perfect age. I agreed.

For the porch.

Negotiations continued for a few weeks. As days warmed, and the porch called for leisurely sitting and talking and eating, I pressed. But neither could I find a similar replacement table for the barn.

And then one inviting summer day, there was the table, sitting out on the porch, waiting.

Confused, I asked 'But don't you need it still? And I haven't found one to swap you yet...'

He smiled kindly, the way he does. 'I'll make do. Table's yours.'

Grace.

You wrote it so well, L.L: Grace and the barn. That's where Grace entered into our messy world.

And redeems us.

Nearly every day this summer, into the fall here, we've eaten out on the porch at least one meal a day around that barn-redeemed table. Saying grace around grace.

It was the perfect place to read Stone Crossings, L.L.

But then again, isn't anywhere?

For all is grace.

(I look forward to more grace places Stone Crossings has wandered too! Thank you for this place, L.L.)

All's grace,
Ann

I thank Ann for this story behind the initial story. And when I asked permission to lift it out of the comment box at my original post and raise it to the surface, this is what I said, hoping she would agree...

If you say yes, I think I will match it with a picture of an old wooden table that sits on my side porch. How many of us have old wooden tables in our lives? Oh, and wouldn't it be fun (I think it would), to invite people to do their own posts of such tables. And their own sweet, and struggling, and hopeful and mournful, and joyful posts about such tables.

So there it is. Do you have an old wooden table in your life? A storied table, as Ann puts it? Or maybe an old wooden chair? I would love to see the pictures of such tables or chairs, hear the stories. And if you tell me that you've posted such, why of course I shall link to you.* It could be our own way of saying grace around grace.


*Your patience appreciated as to the speed of my linking... I'll be in Paris for some days coming up, mostly internet free. But I shall get to it. I promise.


Old Wooden Table Photo, by L.L. Barkat. Woven Nest, by Sara and Sonia.

NEW LINKS TO THIS POST:
Warrior Princess' Grace, Tables and an Artist's Easel
Hildegard's Resting on Grace 1
Hildegard's Resting on Grace 2