As I look around at all of the vibrant colors and bold lettering, I am enthused by the world of farming. I feel welcome. Not only do I feel welcome, but I feel important. I begin to understand that in order for Our Table to do their job, I first have to do mine. In the same way that they value their role in the community throughout the year and throughout the changing of seasons, I too have that same responsibility. I sit down on the bench and feel in unison with the other people gathered around the table. Although our lives are much different—we are united in this moment. Something so powerful—so wonderful and unexplained, makes me suddenly question why every meal isn’t spent this way. Eating should be fun. Eating is fun. Food is not just a means to live, but food is what navigates our world. Food is the center of our lives, and tells a unique story for every individual. I want to know the stories of the people who I sit and enjoy this place with…what that man with the hat is thinking, or how that kid with organic the chocolate bar is is feeling. What is their story? I carefully pick out one of the #2 pencils from the bucket amidst the center of the table and offer a smile to those around me.
“Oh, this is a fun one. Who remembers their first cooking experience gone horribly wrong?”
Playful laughter starts to erupt. We sit under the pavilion that afternoon with the cool breeze in our hair and love in our hearts; sharing memories and connecting in a way that won’t ever be forgotten. This is community—this is family.
