Letter from Jenny
The world begins at a kitchen table. No matter what, we must eat to live.
The gifts of earth are brought and prepared, set on the table. So it has been since creation, and it will go on.
We chase chickens or dogs away from it. Babies teethe at the corners. They scrape their knees under it.
It is here that children are given instructions on what it means to be human. We make men at it, we make women.
At this table we gossip, recall enemies and the ghosts of lovers.
Our dreams drink coffee with us as they put their arms around our children. They laugh with us at our poor falling-down selves and as we put ourselves back together once again at the table.
This table has been a house in the rain, an umbrella in the sun.
Wars have begun and ended at this table. It is a place to hide in the shadow of terror. A place to celebrate the terrible victory.
We have given birth on this table, and have prepared our parents for burial here.
At this table we sing with joy, with sorrow. We pray of suffering and remorse. We give thanks.
Perhaps the world will end at the kitchen table, while we are laughing and crying, eating of the last sweet bite.
~ Joy Harjo
Dear Springhouse community,
The table, where we break bread together through the seasons of life, is an image and reality that holds what wholeness means to me. So much can happen at that table. Liberation happens at the table if we let it.
One of my favorite movies of all time is a Dutch film called Antoniaโs Line. In it Antonia, a mother and grandmother, opens her home to a diverse group of people in her community. She invites them to stay, break bread, fall in love, and grieve together. She invites them to join her as they live, learn, and die together. It is a great film and the table is consistently present throughout it. The table is the place where they gather and come together, no matter how old they are, who they are, or what is happening in their lives. The table holds each individual as they are, within the wholeness of the community...
