There’s a place at the table for everyone in the fellowship hall at Sugar Hill Mennonite Mission. On any given Sunday, we gather from different tribes and nations to dine on Mennonite cooking. We, the people, are rich and we are beggarly, mentally unstable and well educated. We work for the MTA, in schools, hospitals, a library, a farmer’s market and more. We own our own homes, rent apartments, and live in a shelter.
We love breads, sweet deserts, and coffee with cream. One of us always goes to the cabinet to get the red hot pepper. The mission staff serves us well with main dishes, rice, and potatoes.
The food satisfies, but it is the conversation that causes us to linger. We discuss countries, customs, occupations, dress, volunteer work, and much more. Most of all we like to talk about God and His ways. We don’t always agree. Sometimes we are loud, and there is laughter. We love each other, and we always return to our place at the table.
I’m not sure why it works so well to sit together at the table. Why there is no place I’d rather be or no group I’d rather be with for Sunday dinner.
Maybe you want to come serve here. There’s a place for you at the table.
Berniece
P.s. The back of the Rice Krispie box says, “Everyone deserves a place at the table.” That’s where this title came from.
An Ordinary Life 