My brown betty teapot shows up often for my morning tea time. It is both utilitarian and (I think) pretty. Of course I like a nice stripe and it does show it's stripes. It pours well and harbors my tea inside. The lid fits snugly on top. And brown goes with about any occasion celebrated at the tea table. It is a dependable, workhorse and I am thankful to have it to hold my tea.
“The Teapot”
That morning I heard water being poured into a teapot.
The sound was an ordinary, daily, cluffy sound.
But all at once, I knew you loved me.
An unheard-of thing, love audible in water falling.
(from “Talking into the Ear of a Donkey: Poems”, by Robert Bly, W. W. Norton & Company, 2011. )
I always make my own tea in the morning; but I wonder how it would feel to have someone rise early to make tea for me. Really I don't mind making my own tea. My recent experience of having a realtor working for me in selling my house, I was reminded of the care another person can give in the little things of life. He made the transition from one place to the other better. He softened the experience with kind words and gestures. Then when it was over he brought a gift that touched our hearts. A painting of our house.
Kind thoughts, words, or actions from another, whether it is making tea or a gift make life softer. Those small things are indeed like audible/visual love.
Sending love,
Marilyn
