TITLE: Dinner At The Farm
By Crystal Beavin
SEND A PRIVATE COMMENT
SEND ARTICLE TO A FRIEND
Dinner At The Farm
Going to "the farm" every Sunday was a special time of the week for my family. Actually, it wasn't a farm at all, but it was the name for my grandparent's property.
"The Farm" was located in a rural area in Maryland. The several mile long twisty road took us through the woods and numerous potholes, until we finally arrived at an open area where my grandparents lived.
Uncles, aunts and tons of cousins all gathered together at "the farm" every weekend to have a huge dinner that my grandmother prepared for us. Smelling the fresh, baked bread, which my grandmother made from scratch, brought a warm sense of belonging to each of us. Grandma always had a mouthwatering banquet spread out for us. It was apparent she labored many hours to prepare it.
When the sun began to go down, all of us said our goodbyes, exchanged hugs and kisses, and headed back to our own homes. Although it wasn't easy to say goodbye, we knew we would see each other again soon, next Sunday, to do it all over again.
April 26, 2008
The opinions expressed by authors may not necessarily reflect the opinion of FaithWriters.com.