Thanks, given

The joy of this meal carries me all year.

Our chairs & tables don't match. Our table clothes are old curtains. The lights are from a photo shoot that didn't happen. This space is borrowed. The candle holders are what's left from a larger, broken set.

Amid this mismatched, repuposed, broken table, under the lights of discarded dreams, there is profound beauty. This gathering of orphans, this meal shared between friends & strangers, feels like home. 

Over fourteen years, dozens have come & gone from our table but never left our hearts. This year will bring more seismic changes. Next year our table will be in a different place. The faces gathered around it will change. The $20 Ikea chairs from our first Thanksgiving may not survive another twelve months. 

Change is constant - the heart remains. Our hospitality may be shabby but that is where the beauty lies.