The Folding Table

Yesterday, we made lunch in the garage. Well, truthfully we make every meal in the garage, but this was a purposeful lunch.

Not just any lunch. This one was for the crew building our kitchen, the space that’s slowly taking shape behind sawdust and the hum of saws. And the crew that is here every day, working on our home with respect and care. It was hot out. The kind of heat that sticks to your skin before the day even starts. And yet, they showed up, like they always do. Measuring, lifting, building. Sweating.

So we paused the work.

We cleared space in the garage-turned-temporary-kitchen, unfolded a white plastic table, and began to lay things out: burgers, beef and chicken, fresh off the grill, corn still warm from the pot, crisp veggies, juicy fruit, potato salad, chips, cookies, cold drinks. Nothing fancy. Everything offered with care.

It wasn’t a dining room. There were no linen napkins or matching chairs. Just a fan buzzing in the corner, paper plates and birch forks, paper napkins at the ready, and the quiet satisfaction of feeding people who’ve been working hard.

And somehow, in that in-between space, between chaos and completion, between heat and hunger, we found a kind of stillness. A kind of enough.

I watched them laugh. Go back for seconds. Nod appreciatively over a cookie or a cob of corn. And I felt it, that small but sacred thing that happens when food is shared and the effort behind it is seen. Gratitude doesn’t always need to be spoken. Sometimes, it’s in the second helping. The lingered moment. The chair pulled just a little closer to the table. This was our way of showing gratitude for the hard working crew, and I hope they felt that.

We’re not finished yet. The kitchen still has a long way to go. We have no drywall yet, but the walls have come down that needed to. The floors are plywood and the plumbing has yet to be roughed in. There are wires hanging from the ceiling and temporary lights illuminate the space in the evening.

We are months away from welcoming guests to our Shared Table. But something important happened in that garage. A little moment of pause. Of nourishment. Of appreciation.

And maybe, when all is said and done, that’s what we’re really building.