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The Tea Pot

9/9/2013

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The Tea
Cup


By LaVerda  Andres
 
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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