Steam rose from the delicate tea cup that sat on the table in front of her. The faint smell of lemon dissolved the layers of the day, and she allowed her mind to wander. What a gift life was, if you just chose to look at it that way. This little cup had come down to her through three generations of family, three generations that had sat, as she now sat, enjoying their tea, and putting their days into perspective.  The ancestral connection was strong – the threads that held life together.

(c) December 2015 Bonnie Cehovet

Reproduction prohibited without written consent of the author.


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