Sacred and Intimate: The Supper Table

When time was simple and less complicated we would gather around the supper table. Most of the time this was a place of comfort and replenishment but there were times of discord and discomfort. Looking back, there was more comfort and replenishment. The difficult times are more forgotten.

When we were all home, daddy sat at the head of the table, and I sat at the other end. Brothers David and Glenn sat to dad’s left with David next to him and Glenn next to me. Momma sat on dad’s right and sister Diane sat between momma and me.

Momma was last to sit on most occasions as she finished placing food on the table. When we were poor, mamma would stand at the sink and say she was not hungry. I realized she was sacrificing for us. During the good plenteous times momma fixed multiple dishes. There would be oiled taters for daddy who did not eat butter of dairy products and creamed potatoes for the rest of us. Mamma always fixed two pans of chicken and dressing. One did not have onions for David. We did not have much beef but had lots of pork when we started raising hogs. I can still smell momma’s pork roast she would have for Sunday dinners.

At one time mamma and daddy both worked evening shift. When my brothers, sister, and I got home from school, momma would have our supper waiting on the table. When momma went to working, she would buy us store bought cookies instead of having her homemade cookies, pies, and cakes. Most people call it progress we called it yuck.

Momma was a great cook. Our teenage friends discovered her cooking and the folks around the table grew exponentially.

The Hoppers are big eaters. I remember morning when daddy and my brothers are pancakes faster than momma could flap them. Hoppers often distain leftovers and daddy encouraged us to eat everything the first go-a-round. Our poor dogs and hogs suffered the consequences of our total annihilation of the food.

When times were hard, we ate fried potatoes, field peas, and cornbread. I once told momma that if I ever got grown that I would never eat fried taters, peas, and cornbread again. I was true to my word until I realized I missed momma's taters, peas, and cornbread. I wish I had some now!

Momma got used to cooking large meals and when she was alone after daddy died, she could not prepare a small meal. I remember her coming home from work and preparing a seven-course meal having to invite folks to have supper with her.

Supper time was family time. All of us were sharing life and discussing problems. Grace was always spoken. Daddy would usually call on one of us to say it. There were rules at the table. If someone asked to past a bowl or plate of food, no one could intercept food until after the one requesting got his or her portion.

Another important rule was if you dipped it, you ate it. There was no waste. Another rule was one piece at a time until everyone had a chance to get a piece. There was no reaching across the table. One politely asked to pass the food such as “pass the biscuits please.” If there was one piece left you had to ask, “Does anyone want that last piece of chicken?” If no one wanted it then you could have it.

There is a sacred bond and intimacy formed at the supper table. Hats at the table were forbidden. Shirts were mandatory. Before leaving the table, you had to ask, “May I be excused?” We were poor but tried to have good manners.

Slowly the supper included wives and husbands, kids and friends and another table. Eventually the family suppers dwindled and neither the table nor the house exists. There are wonderful memories of the supper table. Love and family traditions continue as we gather at family suppers. We all look forward to Jesus’ Supper.

 

And he saith unto me, Write, Blessed are they which are called unto the marriage supper of the Lamb. And he saith unto me, These are the true sayings of God Revelation 19:9 KJV