The Tea Cup
With trembling hands my grandmother removed the delicate tea cup from the bed of excelsior protecting it. Her eyes filled with glistening tears as she gently held the beautiful porcelain cup to her heart. Her thin lips quivered as she fought back her tears.
“Katy, I want you to have this tea cup; as you can see it is very important to me”. “I would like to tell you the history behind this little tea cup before I give it to you and hope that when the time comes you will do the same.” My grandmother s’ voice was broken and weak as she spoke. She placed the tiny tea cup in my hands.
“This tea cup was my mothers, given to her on her sixth birthday by her father.” “You see this tiny chip on the side? He told her it was because he had filled it with all his love; and his love was so strong and so great that it overflowed and chipped the tiny cup”. “It is a very special cup”.
My grandmother continued. “Mother’s birthday was the night before her father was to leave for France during WWW II. The next morning he told my mother to go get her tea cup so they could have a cup of tea before he had to leave.”
“As they drank their tea, I remember mother telling me how she watch her father smile down at her.” “My dear little Sara”, he said as he reached and pulled her into his arms, “I will miss you and our tea time so much. Please remember how much I love you and each time you have tea think of me and all my love.” “Promise me will you?”
“My Grandfather never made it back from the war. My mother as a child had tea every day and talked with her father, telling him all her thoughts and plans. As she grew into a young woman she fell in love with my father and of course she continued to have her tea and share with grandfather all the aspects of her life.” “You see dear this cup holds all your great-great grandfathers love, your great grandmothers’ tears, laughter, hopes and dreams, and of course all my love and aspirations.”
“I too have drunk from this cup, I thought of the importance attached to one’s personal cup. I thought of the cups function as a metaphor for an individual’s fate. This little tea cup reminds me of Psalm 23:5
Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over.
“It reminds me of God’s love and all the times that a cup is used in scripture.” The silver cup of Joseph in Genesis 44:2-17, the cup of David in Psalms 16:5 and 23:5, the cup of the Lord in Psalms 75:8 and 1Cor. 10:21, then there is the cup of Salvation Psalms 116:13, also the cup of Blessings in Mt 26:27.”
“It is time now for me to pass the cup to you. It is time for you to add to the history and heritage of the tea cup. Pass it down to the next generation telling them of all the love that it has in it and of the love of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ and the cup he filled for us.”
I hugged my grandmother and placed the cup back upon the bed of excelsior. I thought to myself, “No greater love except that of the Lord could exceed the love of my Great-great grandfather as he filled the cup to overflowing.”
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