One of the most requested writings I’ve featured concerns a water-bearer in India and two water pots, one of them cracked. He would go to the stream every day with these two pots hung on the ends of a long pole that he carried across his neck. He would fill the pots at the stream and, by the time he reached his master’s house, one of them would have leaked so much that it was only half-full. The perfect pot was pleased with itself; the cracked pot was “ashamed of its imperfection,” as this unknown writer said. Of course, the cracked pot eventually learns that the water-bearer had planted flower seeds along the side of the path the water leaked on as it was being carried from the stream. It also learns that if it wasn’t for its imperfection, the master would have no beautiful flowers for his table…
“…a table gleaming with the light of candles, the whiteness of napery, the silver of the samovar and the tea service of transparent porcelain.” Leo Tolstoy from Anna Karenina.
Some years back, my wife and I decided to invest in a dining room table that would some day be considered a family heirloom. We wanted to take our time by visiting a few furniture stores to see what was available before deciding on a purchase. When we first laid eyes upon the set that is now in our dining room, it was akin to love at first sight. We both knew this was the table that would be the focal point for our family celebrations. I’ve hinted at this table in at least one past blog, but I thought I might fill in some of the details.
This was a table that was the creation of famed fashion designer Bob Mackie. He was also noted for creating the wardrobes for The Carol Burnett Show on TV. You might remember some of the outlandish costumes that she and the rest of her cast wore during their hilarious skits. This table is nothing like his vision for that popular sitcom. It is a circular glass table on a huge wooden pedestal. In that sense, there is no seat at the “head of the table.” I liked that idea. The chairs are large and quite comfortable, inviting one to linger over coffee or tea, and dessert. The hutch is magnificent with its beveled panes in the doors and glass shelves. There is a full-length mirror in the back that gives the impression that the interior is larger than it is. Inside, it is lit from above and the illumination is just enough to highlight our crystal and china.
Family and friends have gathered around this table on special occasions and for no occasion other than a simple meal. Over the years, my children have done their homework on this table. We’ve discussed business and family matters by the light of the chandelier that hangs above it, and sometimes even by the soft illumination of a single taper. A fruit bowl sometimes sits in the middle of the table; other times it is a vase of freshly cut flowers. My wife’s Valentine’s arrangement is taking centre-stage now.
I’m always reminded of this excerpt from the book Midnight In The Garden Of Good And Evil by John Berendt, published in 1994 by Random House. The book, of course, was the subject of a major motion picture by Clint Eastwood. Allow me to set the scene that interests me. The author and one of the characters are walking through a large cemetery. He learns from his guide that the property was once a plantation in Colonial times built by Colonel John Mulryne. But the house burned to the ground in the late 1700s. As the story was explained to the author, the fire was nothing short of spectacular. A fairly large dinner party was taking place on the night the flames erupted in the great house. I’ll let the author’s words describe what happened. “In the middle of dinner, the butler came up to the host and whispered that the roof had caught fire and that nothing could be done to stop it. The host rose calmly, clinked his glass, and invited his guests into the garden. The servants carried the table and chairs after them, and the dinner continued by the light of the raging fire. The host made the best of it. He regaled his guests with amusing stories and jests while the flames consumed his house. Then, in turn, each guest rose and offered a toast to the host, the house, and the delicious repast. When the toasts were finished, the host threw his crystal glass against the trunk of an old tree, and each of the guests followed suit. Tradition has it that if you listen closely on quiet nights you can still hear the laughter and the shattering of crystal glasses.” That excerpt has always been a source of wonder to me. How the host could be so calm while his house burned in the background. At least they were able to save the dining room table and chairs from the conflagration.
In my radio show tonight, I mention the castaways in Lost and those who chose to get lost in Survivor sitting on the ground around a campfire sharing a meal. It reminded me of this: “Rather than chairs and tables, I preferred the ground, trees, and caves, for in those places I felt I could lean against the cheek of God.” Clarissa Pinkola Estes quoted in the book Take The Step: The Bridge Will Be There by Grace Cirocco published in 2001 by Harper Collins.
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Don Jackson
