The Good China and the Silver Bell

It has been over 30 years since I saw someone served any kind of meal on a tray. (TV dinners on a TV tray do not count.) Papa insisted on sitting at the table with the rest of the family for all meals. But as he got older, it became easier for Grandmom to serve his meals to him while he sat in his easy chair. Granted, Grandmom didn't serve the cream of mushroom soup with a rose in a vase but she did use the best silver in the house. She served his sweet tea in the best crystal glass as well. The bowl containing the soup was fine china with gold inlay on the outer edge of the bowl.

My first meal on a tray was when I was four years old and suffering a bout of strep throat. Grandmom made sure I was comfortable on the couch with a blanket and my favorite stuffed animals. She hand-picked a couple of books from her personal library and left me with a glass of apple juice. Just as I was drifting into a nap I glanced over at the round table by the couch. And there sat the most beautiful silver bell. It was the "sick bell". If I needed Grandmom, all I had to do was ring the bell. A four year old can think of all kinds of reasons to ring a silver bell. And a grandmother needs only one reason to take the bell away.

Grandmom served me lunch on a tray and although I do not remember what the meal consisted of, I do remember the linen napkin, the silver spoon and milk in a crystal glass. I felt like a princess even though I was battling being sick. Years later, I would ask Grandmom if I could have my lunch on a tray like Papa. As we ate our sandwiches and soup, we would pretend that we were guests of some royal family and take turns telling stories about our gallant adventures around the kingdom.

As Papa got older, Grandmom always made sure the silver bell was on his nightstand as she tucked him for the night. The last time he rang the silver bell was the last night he spent in his home. I remember jumping out of bed when I heard the tinkling of the bell. Grandmom ushered me back to bed and told me to go back to sleep. After Papa left, I thought that if I rang the silver bell that he would come back home.

So put to use the fine china and crystal and silver because it isn't doing any good collecting dust in the china cabinet. What is the point of having it anyway? Make every day a good china day! And ring that silver bell if only to hear the beautiful noise it can make.