Tea and Sympathy

• "Isn't it funny how day by day nothing changes, but when you look back everything is different".  ~C.S. Lewis

A shy classmate in my kindergarten class admitted at circle time that her mother let her drink tea.  Our teacher gasped and looked askance and said that little children should never be allowed to drink tea.  I stayed silent as tea was the beverage of choice at our house every Saturday at breakfast and always when one was sick in bed with a cold.  Both my grandmothers drank tea - one - the indulgent one, gave us "tea time" every Saturday at 3:00 when we gleefully spoiled our dinner with tea, potato chips and M & M's.  My brother was also allowed ten consecutive teaspoonfuls of sugar into his delicate bone china tea cup.  This I know because I counted each out loud. One...two...three...four...

With my other grandmother, tea was more refined.  We sat at her table with silver spoons, cloth napkins and small sandwiches.  But at both houses, tea was always sympathy...and love.

I drank gallons of tea this week.  The stress of the election coupled with too many, too-early signs of the holidays bearing down, had me reaching for the tea box regularly, even at work.  One simply cannot help but slow down when there is a warm brewing cup in the hand.

I have friends who visit often for a chat and a cup of tea.  As soon as I see my "tea-friends" car, I put the kettle on.  And when I visit them, they have my favorite mug heated and waiting.  Tea time is our text, our email...our network.  It is the way we touch hands and receive understanding for life's inevitable speed bumps.  In the time it takes to drink just one cup, we sort through the tough week at work, an elderly father's unexpected fall, or a grown child's move to a distant town.  We nod in communion over tea, offering each other something as warming as the fragrant elixir in our cups.

My kindergarten teacher may have believed that tea stunted children's growth or something similarly old-fashioned.  But I believe tea along with sympathy makes us grow -  in strength, if not in stature.

The Power of Tea

There are no less than three tea shops in the neighborhood where my new job is located.  My favorite is a rather plain little spot that is wonderfully quiet and peaceful.  A young man waits on me everyday and he has been looking at me with growing curiosity.  I sense he wonders who this newcomer is but I am not quite ready for friendly small talk or introductions.  I like being anonymous in this unfamiliar place where I am still unsure of myself.  I order a decaf English Breakfast tea that is delicious and brewed in a hand tied tea bag.  I steal a place by the sunniest window where I sit and sip and try to get the lay of the land of my new workaday world.

I learned tea drinking from both my grandmothers.  One honored the three o'clock tea hour by gathering mismatched china cups and then let us have potato chips and pickles in a disarray at the kitchen table while we slurped.  She also didn't care how many spoonful's of sugar were emptied into our cups from the sugar bowl.  It was the best of times.

When I was a young wife I had the opportunity to stay at Boston's Copley Plaza Hotel in the winter while my husband was attending a seminar.  Feeling cold and lonely one afternoon, I ordered tea from the room service menu.  Soon a waiter arrived with a large silver tray which held a silver tea service with milk and lemon slices.  On the tray was also a petite silver basket overflowing with plump green grapes and juicy oranges cut in quarters.  The repast was rounded out by delicate water biscuits and perfect triangles of subtly piquant cheeses.  I had never beheld such a banquet for one and it forever raised the bar for creating tea trays at home.

Tea is often put into the hands of my favorite literary heroines, and writers have always romanticized the tea hour in books.  Tea has been part and parcel of many a children's story too, such as the fanciful classic, Alice in Wonderland.  Whenever a book I am reading has a character that drinks tea, he or she is suddenly elevated.  Tea is a true seal of elegance and refined living.

I like black tea with milk best but I am not opposed to a fragrant jasmine with honey when I am feeling fickle.  Sometimes I try to recreate my hotel tray but for long afternoons with a book, a mug is my favorite vessel.  The one I currently use has a lid which keeps my tea hot during page turning.  Tea is consoling and takes me back to the days I spent with a grandmother who shamelessly and magically indulged our whims.  Tea comforts and cheers - it's the pause in the middle of the day to gather thoughts or sift through cobwebs.  And tea helps us find our feet just before we step out anew.

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