Last weekend a large group of parents joined forces to create an elegant dining experience for the teachers at my girls' school. While I am no longer working there, John is and we were on the receiving end of a five course meal. Our table was set for six, with dishes and silverware that looked beautiful even before the food arrived. An orchid
stretched its blaze of purple as a centerpiece, and no less than eight servers dressed in black attended to our every wish for wine, breads, chocolate cake with salted caramel, and salmon with wild rice. There was even sorbet between courses to clean our palates. At least I think that is why dessert showed up before and after the entree. The chefs appeared for a standing ovation and smiled while we showered them with gratitude.
It was delightful to be treated like
royalty. While I cannot fathom the pockets that paid for the soiree, or the efforts of fifty men and women all of whom have children as well, the evening will be a sweet spot in the hearts of the seventy five gladsome guests.
Every time I tried to express my thanks to the people filling my water glass or bringing me seconds on cake, they deflected me with their own.
"This is to thank all of you!"
How does this
work? Gratitude ricocheted around the room like light off a disco ball. The servers laughed as they placed Tiffany plates before us and offered to snag one more cup of bright blue and red berries. Although the kerfuffle of dirty dishes and unwashed napkins was hidden behind a partition I got a peek as I retrieved my coat. While I drove away with a full belly these generous souls were lugging home boxes of their best china and linens, to be dealt with in the morning. Come to think of it, how
early did they arrive to set up tables and floor lamps, and spread snowy cloths?
Although I cannot conceive of a way to measure the impact, I feel confident that their response was genuine. They had a ball.
One woman who had a foot in both camps, both being on staff and a parent, had the option to serve or be served. Her husband would have shied away from a three hour social event chatting with people he did not know. But to buss
tables? Absolutely. He jumped in and had a great time.
How is it that service can be its own reward? I recall Jesus comparing the two.
For who is greater, he who sits at the table or he who serves? Is it not he who sits at the table? Yet I am among you as the One who serves. Luke 22
Marriage is a marathon service opportunity. Perhaps
that is part of the design after all.
