My previous year Zara Home Christmas tablecloth looked far from the festive look it was promising when purchased. And Christmas last year asked for something meaningful de celebrate.
On Christmas Eve, I was in the capital of what is still known as the poorest country of Europe. -10Celsius. The souvenirs market colored the grey December afternoon with paintings, souvenirs and handcrafts. She was there. She is as beautiful as i met her four and a half years ago https://lovevonbeautyvonlove.com/2012/07/23/lets-talk-about-aging-part-2/
I am with my daugther. We spot a white tablecloth with a delicately crafted finishing. It is exactly what we wanted for our Christmas dinner.
The beautiful old lady is frozen and asks as to help ourselves. I touch her hand. It’s as cold as ice. I offer to bring her a hot tea. She declines. With modesty. She switches the conversation to my daugther. The purchase made, I leave with a hope to see her in Spring. I hope with all my heart.
The white tablecloth joined the other two tablecloths i bought from her. They witness our family meals, meals with friends, silent meals, joyful meals. They keep the story of the beautiful old lady part of our stories.