If Tables Could Talk
A few nights ago we sat at our neighbor’s table, might I add, no ordinary table. It was an eight-foot single of slab of maple that he’d hand planed, sanded, and cured with love for their family to enjoy meals and fellowship for years to come. The beauty of the craftsmanship was secondary to the waves of stories marked by the wood’s flowing grain etched throughout the various hues of brown, black, tan and red…
