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Come Eat at My Table

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Prologue

It’s said that the way we are raised forms who we are as adults. It’s all the experiences we have had in life that make us who we are. Mom was no different. Her experiences definitely shaped who she was.

I learned at an early age that it was my mom’s goal in life to feed everyone. She believed that food connected people and made them happy. Many of my own most vivid memories come from when we were sitting at the table eating with friends and family. Besides just inviting friends over for dinner, Mom would have someone over to eat in payment for a good deed. Mom would always make a meal for someone who was sick or in need. If she knew that someone was depressed, they would be the recipients of a plate of cupcakes. It was her signature touch of love that made all her food special. Mom never failed to include a card along with the food with a few words of encouragement. If dessert was given, it was always presented on a pretty plate intended for the receiver to keep. Mom was famous for her cooking, especially for her cupcakes that were decorated individually.

It wasn’t until the year that my sister and I turned sixteen that we realized why Mom had an underlying need to feed everyone. She wanted everyone to know they were loved - by her and by God. I remember that year as being one of the best of our lives. I don’t exactly know why because it was a year of great difficulty for my parents and for us as a family. In spite of those difficulties, I remember that year as being fun and good.

Mom was one of those people that didn’t realize all the good she did or the number of people she touched. She did what she did because she felt God told her to. She didn’t do it for show. There was something deep down inside her that made her want to reach out to others. She never wanted anyone to feel as she had felt as a child, which was unloved. It wasn’t until the project for school our sophomore year that my sister and I found out why Mom was the way she was.

It’s a story I will never forget because it was one that was difficult for my mom to tell and for us to hear. She wanted to shade my sister and I from her past, but I think I’m better for knowing it. I think you will be, too.

Chapter One 

"Only two more days till Christmas!" Hope danced around the kitchen chanting while getting underfoot. She was good at that, but not always a whole lot of help.  

"Yes, we know!" Hope's twin sister Faith said, while frosting some of the cookies she had baked earlier in the day with their mom.  

Hope picked up the cookie as soon as Faith set it aside to let the frosting set. 

"You didn't burn these did you?" 

"I haven't burnt anything in a long time!" Faith said. 

"Yeah, it's been at least a week!" Hope said sarcastically. 

"We'd get more done if you helped a little more besides eating everything." The girls' mom, Karin, said to Hope without looking up from what she was doing. 

"I'm taste-testing," Hope said with her mouth full. "And taking pictures." She held up her other hand, which contained a camera. It was an older camera that used film, but she found taking pictures enjoyable and she was good at it. She used her talent and became the photo editor of their school newspaper. She would often get right up in people's faces to get a close-up shot. Karin and Faith hated that, which made Hope do it even more. 

Hope and Faith were identical twins who would turn sixteen the next July. While they looked alike, they made every effort to look different. They had the same honey colored hair and green eyes as their mom. The three of them looked so much alike that their father often called them his triplets.  

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