A Seat at the Table

Remembering your words about having dinner together for Thanksgiving today, I made my way to the dining table to prepare our shared space. Between a polished ceramic plate and a folded cloth napkin, an embroidered ribbon was slightly twisted, dangling precariously near the edge of the placemat. Stepping onto the woven runner, I settled into a steady, disciplined stance to gauge my balance. With measured care, I pressed the side of my fist against the silk, smoothing the creases flat until the ribbon rested straight alongside a polished silver fork. Our table is ready and peaceful now.