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Ashley | Fresh Flour Living's avatar

Thank goodness it's NOT THE COLD PLUNGE!! Love this.

Selena's avatar

Yes! And there was a quiet beauty to my Nana's well-laid table. The message I absorbed was that I was special, mealtime was special, lingering was embraced. Now, meals are eaten standing up, in the car, or not at all.

In our family, Sunday dinner is as sacred as the reset of Sunday itself. With a husband that travels, Sunday dinner is a guaranteed time I can count on him being home. That's when our family gathers, there's laughter, discussions, and yes, LOTS of dishes to wash after. Even that task becomes enjoyable as people take turns washing and singing together over the suds.

Society has lost the quiet joy of the mealtime ritual itself.

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