The Oval Table

Foundations

Our table had four legs and the chairs were different, but there is the idea.

The oval table stood in the heart of the dining room. For many, it was and still is just a table. Its polished surface was reminiscent of many years of care. To a small child, it was an oval expanse of dark patina. It also carried with it memories inextricably linked to the pink chair in the adjoining bedroom.

The table has been in his family for generations, holding not only a long history but also countless cherished memories. If only it could speak, it would entertain us with tales of family life in this very home.

It was around this very table where Bible readings took place. It was a place of quiet reflection, of hushed reverence. Every evening after supper, our grandfather would open the family Bible on the oval surface. The leather cover, softened with age, smelled faintly of menthol, a smell that always triggered a wave of nostalgia in my nostrils to this day.

We would all gather around the table, children and adults alike. Grandpa always took the lead with the readings. Each of us clutched a hymnal, even though we couldn’t read the words. However, that didn’t stop us from belting out the tunes with gusto.

The familiar words of the hymns seemed to resonate with the very essence of the table, creating a sense of comfort and warmth. I can’t quite remember if we had electricity back then, but the soft glow of light made the dark oval table feel like a sacred space, a refuge from the chaos outside.

Mum would often reminisce about the pink chair man, her brother and my uncle. It was during his era that the table truly came alive. Grandpa would call upon him to read passages from the Bible, adding an extra layer of reverence to their gatherings.

The siblings would often pray that their father would not give him charge. Here is the reason. He would diligently do the readings, which was often his choice. To them, it felt like he always chose the toughest parts to read.

Once he was done, he would go around the table quizzing them about what he had just read. It totally freaked them out. Later in life, Mum asked him why he did that, why he did not just read the Bible like his father did. His response was that he wanted to see if they were listening.

As time went on, he stopped joining the readings as frequently, inadvertently sparing the next generation from his pop quizzes. I understand now, in retrospect, why he opted out. He suffered from severe PTSD and found life difficult most of the time.

Now, years later, the oval table and the pink chair remain silent witnesses to the past, albeit in my memory only. Although others may see these items as mere furniture, their memories link to a past founded on the principles of God’s Word.

The pink chair reminds me of the man with many gifts and talents, destroyed by a stupid, ego-driven war. The other, the oval table, reminds me of how a man reading from the Bible directed my path.

The oval table, more than just a piece of furniture, was a testament to the enduring power of family, faith, and love. It was a table where children and adults shared life, learnt lessons, and where faith was given a head start.

References:

Table created with https://www.freepik.com/pikaso/ai-image-generator