In the summer of ’99 I received the most beloved of material gifts. Mothers, sisters and friends, knowing that I am an old soul who prefers chipped china with a story over a fancy modern gadget, came up with a wonderful idea as they planned my bridal shower.
The event was held at my brother’s home. His rooms were draped in lace and floral accents excavated from the far recesses of my family’s many closets. Tables were set with mismatched china borrowed from a myriad of households. Chilled and hot infusions, petite sandwiches and tea cakes accompanied fresh whipped cream, berries and sparkling punch.
Guests were invited to wear, if they pleased, lace and flower adorned sundresses. Most did and the effect was delightful. Our collective bunch, all long standing northerners, would have fit right in sipping our tea, sugared with a touch of gossip perhaps, in a fine southern parlor.
My mother and wedding party presented their gift, coordinated expertly around the day’s theme. I learned my sisters had antiqued, on numerous occasions, in pursuit of the ideal ‘Tea Cabinet’. The piece they settled on was sturdy and beautiful. It was imperfect and therefore perfect having been well loved through the years. This crafted gem of stained wood and waved glass, in my eyes, could not have been more pleasing.
Foregoing a more traditional wishing well, guests were asked to bestow tea totaler items. They delivered on this request. My newly acquired tea cabinet, one unwrapping at a time, was stocked by the thoughtful hands of dear guests.
My husband’s spunky Great Aunt Nettie gave me a mini tea cup, in ivory and cobalt blue, from her childhood. A sister gifted me with a treasured cup and saucer from our Grandmother’s collection. Other friends found whimsical fairy tea cups while some brought a bit of Ireland to the party, with Belleek and Carrigaline tea sets.
I’ve collected additional trinkets, through the years, to place within my tea cabinet. The inclusions are always deeply personal… a newspaper clipping announcing my parents engagement, a potpourri heart embellished with ivory and snow white buttons made by my mother-in-law and many more treasured tokens depicting marriage and love. Atop I have clusters of wedding photos, both my own and that of my family and closest friends.
Though I pass my cabinet innumerous times daily, every once in a blue moon I’ll stop and take a moment to admire this ligneous member of our family. Perusing its archives I reflect on how very blessed I am to have the warmth and love of that day, the gifts of many no longer with us, within the aged and knowing doors of my Tea Cabinet.
Cricklewood Gardens 