Image copyright: 123rf/Ruth Black
My good china pattern is a beautiful, plain white satin with a silver band around the rim that has faded just a bit through the years. I have champagne glasses that match with a simple silver band around the mouth of the glass as well. Back in the day that was the thing to do. I know because our high school home-ec teacher told us. We learned to cook, bake, sew, set a proper table and how to arrange furniture to prepare a home for marriage.
Shortly after high school, the opportunity presented itself and I bought a 12-piece china setting, silverware and champagne glasses along with a gorgeous hope chest to store it all in so it didn’t break. I was ready.
I was ready for my prince to sweep me away. I imagined using my china to set the table for the many intimate dinner parties with our neighborhood group of friends. Wearing the right evening attire and being the gracious host. Returning the china not to the hope chest, but to an exquisite china cabinet to be admired by all. And someday, I would pass the china on to my daughters and the traditions would continue.
POP! My bubble burst! My prince didn’t arrive until ten years later, when we worked basic jobs, wore jeans and my china still sat in the hope chest. It came out on holidays and special celebrations. Then it returned, not to an exquisite china cabinet, but the hope chest. Nowadays, part of my china sits in a small cabinet with glass doors, the rest in sleeves tucked way back in a cabinet that would take Houdini to get it back out.
My point is that life doesn’t always go the way we planned, hoped or imagined it would be. But we can’t keep looking out of a glass cabinet door or stay tucked away, waiting for just the right moment to arrive. We need to take out the good china, eat burgers on it and let it be admired every day. And if it breaks, well that’s okay too!
By the way, I had two sons. Neither wants the china.