Perhaps I have never mentioned in this space that at several times in my life I have been a waitress. I am sure that I have never mentioned that it truly is one of my favorite jobs. Waitressing provides those who like it with a constant stream of people with which to interact. It allows you to offer hospitality, to feed people not only with food but with attention. It allows you to earn cold, hard cash in ways that, for the most part, is commensurate with your ability to do your work. If you feel good about the food you are serving and like the people you work with you can leave at the end of your shift tired but fulfilled. And you rarely take your work home with you or stress out about the work itself. As I see it, It is work ideal for the extroverted person addicted to welcome and hospitality.

This morning I recognized another element of this service profession which I may have intuitively known but had never articulated. It happened at a little Grand Marais stronghold known as The World’s Best Donuts. Ever been there? I am not much a donut eater but this place lives up to its name and it is always good to stop by there. I figure a donut once a year or so is a good thing.

In the past I have only bought donuts to take away to a cabin or house where I was vacationing. But today my husband and I walked into a little side room where the tables were filled with people having their donuts and morning coffee. The room was a-buzz with activity and conversation. Clearly these regulars loved being with one another and loved their donuts!

Sitting at the tables crammed into this little space, my eyes fell on what lay beneath the glass covered tabletop. A jumble of pictures, comics and letters filled the surface. There was an image of a fresh faced young girl taken in 2005 whose reflection I recognized as the now young woman who sold us our rings of sweetness. In another photo, holding up a coffee mug with the donut’s shop logo, stood another young woman in her graduation cap and gown. She was proudly poised in front of the sign for the Harvard Business School. A relative of the owner or a former employee? Who knows? But this little establishment was important enough in her life’s story to warrant making it a part of the history of her important day. Still another photo was of an older man, the dates of his birth and death printed under his name. A short phrase ” the place won’t be the same without you” explained the importance of this place in his life and that he would be missed.

The entire table was covered in similar photos and as I turned to leave I made a point of looking at the other tables covered in coffee cups and donuts in various stages of being eaten. They, too, held the same kinds of photos of yet others who had shared in food and friendship around these tables. I left feeling so full, not so much of sugar, but of the beauty of life itself and the precious nature of the relationships we forge together. Often around a table. Often over a cup of coffee or tea. Often around a food that has meaning beyond its taste or nutrition.

I began to think of the tables I have served as a waitress. I remembered the people who would come into a place I worked and always sit at the same table. How I looked forward to their presence, to catching up with lives! And I thought of the table in my own house and the house of my childhood and all the many people who have, over the years, sat in those chairs. I was struck with the power of tables, how they can hold the stories and the lives of all who take the time to stop, sit and share food. Each table in some way continues to hold the memory of that presence. That was my experience this morning.

And so as I continue on my way into this day and this week and the next month, I want to hold this experience in my consciousness. I want to remember that,as I take a place at nearly every table, I am only one person who is sharing a space so many others have done before me. Their stories, their lives, also occupied this place. Though I may not be able to see them as I could those who had left their mark through photos and writings on the table I sat at today, we are somehow connected by virtue of having sat in the same place.

Perhaps this was something Jesus knew as he gathered his dear friends around a table so long ago and said: ” Take, eat, remember.”